Promises of Paradise
by seditionary
Summary: AU. Reid is fifteen, pregnant, and the locals are trying to pin a murder rap on him. Morgan is sent to interview him and is caught up in the youth's predicament. Slash; references to rape and sexual abuse of a minor.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **

**1. Clearly, I cannot stop myself from starting new stories.**

**2. I'm sorry about that.**

**3. I will keep working on both "Don't Shoot the Piano Player" and "Say the Right Thing," I swear.**

**4. This one has been in my head for a while and, as stated earlier, I can't stop myself.**

**Ahem. Anyway, this is angsty mpreg, an AU set in the present day (with some modifications, see intro paragraph of story) in which the BAU team is pretty much as we know it (with Prentiss, JJ, and Rossi) except for Reid, who is fifteen years old and pregnant. Also, Morgan is younger, maybe late twenties. Oh, and Reid's accused of murder. **

**Okay.**

**Warnings: No graphic sex, but there will be references to rape and sexual abuse of a minor. Probably bad language. M/R slash, eventually.  
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** Here we go...**

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><p><em>A series of top-secret genetic experiments in the 1930's led to an unforeseen side effect-males capable of becoming pregnant. The mutation was passed on to their sons. Now in the third generation, these unfortunate young men, known derisively as "breeder boys," are often shunned by their own families and regarded as freaks by society.<em>

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><p>"So, we still on for tonight? Seven? Sure, that is, unless something comes up at work. But, it's looking pretty good right now, so let's keep our fingers crossed. Yeah. Okay-well, I'll see you later, then. Huh? Oh, yeah, me too. Mm-hmm. All right, sweet thing. Later." Derek Morgan clicked off his phone and chuckled, sounding annoyingly self-satisfied.<p>

Emily Prentiss rolled her eyes.

"Hot date tonight, stud?"

"Now, don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop on my personal phone calls, Princess?"

"You're sitting right there! And, anyway, since when has your private life been a secret?"

"Aw, it's not, I know how you like to live vicariously through me. And, yes, I do happen to have a hot date tonight, if you must know."

"With whom?"

"That cute little barista that just started at the coffee shop down the street."

"Seriously, Morgan? Do people really still call them 'coffee shops?'"

"That's what _I _call 'em, 'cause that's what they are, even if they do charge five dollars for a cup of coffee."

Prentiss grinned, then cupped her hands in front of her chest. "Hey, is she the one with the big-" Prentiss' inquiry was cut short by Hotch's voice coming over Morgan's intercom.

"Morgan." It wasn't even a question.

Morgan winced, but answered, "Yeah, Hotch."

"My office, asap." The intercom buzzed before falling silent and both Prentiss and Morgan stared at it for a moment. Morgan's face was wracked with dismay, and Prentiss said, "My God, Morgan, cheer up. It could be nothing. You'll probably still be able to make your date tonight."

"I don't think so. Did you hear him? It was his 'You're not going to like this, but I don't care,' voice. No, this is not good."

He gave a doomed sigh and headed up the stairs to Hotch's office.

Prentiss didn't say so, but she had to agree. "Poor little barista-no Morgan lovin' for you tonight," she murmured to herself as she turned back to her computer.

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><p>"What's up, Hotch?" Morgan slipped into the unit chief's office and took a chair before the man behind the desk had a chance to turn around. Hotch ignored him for a moment, but then did turn, a file folder in his hand. He tossed it across the desk to Morgan.<p>

"This."

Morgan gave him a tired look before picking it up and thumbing through the papers inside. "Two women killed in Palmer County. North of here, right? Both stabbed. The murders took place within twenty miles of each other, three months apart." He raised his eyes. "So?"

"There's been a third."

"Okay. Where's the rest of the team?"

"We're not sure it's a matter for the team. I want you to go up there and do a consultation with the locals to make sure."

"Why me?"

"There's a suspect in custody, but he's not talking. I want you to interview him. I think you might be able to get him to open up."

Morgan's face crinkled into a dubious frown. "Well, sure, I'll go, but what's so great about me? Is the guy black?"

"No. Actually, he's a teenage boy. He's a resident at the Emma Sanders Home." Hotch steadily held Morgan's gaze as comprehension came to him. Decades ago, the Emma Sanders Home was known as the Emma Sanders Home for Wayward Girls. It was now simply "The Home" and it was the only facility east of the Mississippi that could accommodate both male and female pregnant teens.

"Aw-no, Hotch, no way. Not me. He's one of those breeder boys-I got nothing in common with him! Why not Prentiss? She-she's been through something similar, she could relate to him better than I ever could."

Hotch took a deep breath and leaned forward. "I do think you have something in common."

"Oh, yeah? What?"

"The man who impregnated the boy was his teacher-a trusted adult. He... raped him. The man's now in jail, fortunately. But, the boy was traumatized and still hasn't recovered." Hotch's voice took on a gentler tone. "I think you, more than anyone, could understand him. And, I think you could gain his trust. "

Morgan dropped his eyes and concentrated on the file. He hated that his boss, as well as the entire team, knew about his past with Carl Buford. He'd really hoped it would never come up again, yet here it was, being thrown in his face as if it were an asset.

Hotch went back to his all-business tone. "From what I understand, I don't think the boy committed the murder, but the locals are eager to look as if they're doing something to halt what's beginning to appear to be a serial killer's spree. They're focusing all their energy on this kid, when the real killer is probably still out there, choosing his next victim. I need you to get the boy to talk-for his own sake, but also for the sake of whoever might be the killer's next target." Hotch paused and gave Morgan a stern stare. "I really think you can help him, as well as get the information needed to clear him."

Morgan shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I guess I can try. But, why do they think he did it?"

"The woman was killed near the river. He was found walking away from the body, his hands covered with her blood. He hasn't answered a single question, or said very much at all since then. But, there was no weapon recovered, nor did he have anything on him. No scratches or wounds, and the victim appears to have put up a fight."

Morgan shook his head slowly. "I really don't want to do this, Hotch."

"I understand. But, it's been less than two months since the last one. He's escalating. Time's running out. I strongly believe you're the best agent to handle this."

The room was completely silent but for Morgan idly flipping through papers in the file folder as he mulled over the assignment. If the kid did have anything to do with the murder, Morgan was confident he could get it out of him. But, if he didn't, Morgan knew he'd need someone on his side, and he knew exactly what it felt like to be falsely accused-on top of being so utterly betrayed by someone he'd trusted. After a long pause, he answered. "All right, fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you. Your flight leaves at seven. The local sheriff will meet you at the airport. I want a report as soon as you've had a chance to speak with the boy."

"Sure. What's his name?"

"Spencer Reid. He's fifteen years old, six months pregnant, and his family's completely abandoned him. And now, he's accused of murder."

Morgan huffed in disgust. "Sounds like the kid can't catch a break."

Hotch handed Morgan his flight information, then shook his hand. "That would be an understatement. Good luck."

Morgan raised a hand in farewell and went to grab his go-bag.

And, to make a regretful call to a certain cute little barista.


	2. Spencer

**A/N: Just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who has already read-and reviewed!-Chapter One. I'm sorry to take so long to get Chapter 2 done, but man, it's hot around here. Anyway, hope this doesn't disappoint. Thanks, dears!**

**Warning for language and reference to non-con.  
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**Seds**

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><p>Morgan's plane landed at the Palmer Municipal Airfield at 7:52 PM. He gathered his things, exited, and looked around until he spotted the sheriff, then strode over to meet him.<p>

"Sheriff Mueller? Special Supervisory Agent Derek Morgan, how're you doing?" Morgan had his hand out, and the tall white man in uniform paused for a fraction of a second before taking it. That told Morgan all he needed to know about the sheriff's racial attitudes, but Mueller nodded and said, "Doing all right, how 'bout yourself?" in a friendly enough tone. Morgan took it for what it was worth.

"Not too bad."

"That's good. Let's get on the road and I'll give you an update on the case." The sheriff gestured toward his vehicle and the two men started walking.

Once they were on the highway headed toward the county seat of Palmer, Mueller began. "So, we just got a positive ID on the victim. Name's Mary Amos, from Napierville, about twenty miles from here. She was a teacher. No idea what she was doing in Palmer, but her car was parked in a lot near City Hall. Had expired tags, so it's possible she came to renew them, but she never made it inside."

"I understand she was stabbed-did she die from the wounds, or-"

"She took one in the neck. Preliminary assessment says she bled out."

"On the spot where she was found?"

"Yeah, under a bridge."

"Sexual assault?"

"Most likely. The medical examiner's report hasn't come back on that yet."

"They're doing DNA testing too, right?"

"Of course, but we have to send it off to a lab in D.C. It's going to take a while."

"Tell me about this kid, Reid. Big guy? Is he violent?"

"He's a tall drink of water, but skinny. Well, except for, you know." The sheriff made a rounding gesture at his stomach. "No priors, no history of violence. He can be a surly little smart-ass, though."

"Sounds like a typical teen. You really think he killed her?"

The sheriff sighed, then cast a sideways glance at Morgan. "It's hard to say. He was found wandering in a daze, his hands covered with Mary Amos' blood. She was still warm when we got to her, so he had to have had something to do with it, but the weapon hasn't been recovered, so..." The man shifted in his seat and stared straight ahead. Morgan did the same, giving the man's words due thought.

"Stabbing someone to death's a messy business, Sheriff. Blood spatters, it spews and drips-he'd have had it all over himself, in his shoes, in his hair. It also takes a lot of strength and agility-a skinny six-months pregnant fifteen-year-old probably wouldn't be able to pull it off unless the victim was bound in some way. Any sign of ligature marks?"

"Yeah, but she didn't have anything on her when we found her." Mueller cleared his throat. "Look, I'm not disagreeing with you. But, the damn kid won't talk, won't cooperate-won't say what he was doing out there after dark, how he got blood on his hands, whether he saw anything-nothing."

"Is he refusing, or is he in shock?"

"Don't know. Look, he's one of them freaks, a breeder boy." The sheriff gave Morgan a meaningful look. "What does that tell you?"

"You tell me."

"They're peculiar. It ain't enough they can get knocked up-they're not right in the head, that's what I've noticed. Screwed up, in more ways than one." Mueller snickered at his joke and looked at Morgan for agreement. He maintained his studied, neutral expression.

"So-if you've observed some sort of emotional disturbance, maybe he should be in a psych unit instead of being held in a juvenile facility."

The sheriff snorted. "Juvenile facility? Hate to break it to you, Big City, but our 'juvenile facility' happens to be a cell at the far end of the jail."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "He's being held with adult prisoners?"

"No, no, he's isolated. But, we don't have a separate building. Not a lot of juvenile crime around here, they all like to go up to Baltimore for that shit."

Both men fell silent for a couple of miles, then the short, ragged outline of downtown Palmer came into sight. "You want to talk to him right away?" the sheriff asked.

"Yeah. Please." Morgan took a deep breath. He wanted to get a look at the boy for himself, to see who he was, make a determination about what he'd done-and, maybe, to get an idea of what he needed.

Mueller drove to the stark building where the Sheriff's Department was housed along with the jail. He parked and pulled up his hand-held radio. "Take the Reid kid to Interrogation, will you, Hank?"

"Sure thing, Chief," a voice responded. The men got out of the vehicle and Mueller led Morgan inside. The smell of stale cigarette smoke, perspiration, and old public building hit Morgan as soon as they walked in. He followed Mueller down a long corridor to a dimly-lit room. They walked in and found a deputy seated at a desk; there was a large two-way mirror, and Morgan looked through it and saw the young man-Spencer Reid.

He was sitting at a scuffed metal table; a chair was in place across from him, and aside from that, there were no other furnishings. The walls had possibly once been white, but were now a smoggy-looking gray. Except for the boy's thick mass of long, wavy brown hair, his pale skin, and the blue of a denim shirt over a white tee, the sight beyond the glass was close to a monotone.

Morgan stepped closer. He wanted to size the kid up, figure him out before he ever walked into the room, but he could see it wasn't going to be that easy. The boy looked calm enough, almost as if he were waiting for a bus; but, his large eyes held turmoil as well as deep intelligence. He was skinny as expected-but, with his midsection hunched against the table, Morgan couldn't detect any sign of pregnancy.

The boy's hands were tightly clasped together on the table, and handcuffs glinted on his wrists.

Mueller went to the door and unlocked it, then indicated that Morgan should go in ahead of him. He walked into the room and the boy looked up. The placid expression left his face and he became wary. He leaned back, revealing his belly-a round protrusion straining against the cling of his t-shirt, as if a smallish basketball had been stuck up under there. He defensively slid his hands under the swell and looked from Morgan to Mueller.

Mueller strode to the table, then loudly slapped down a file folder, and the sharp noise reverberated in the room. Startled, the boy shrank back. "All right, Reid, this is Agent Morgan with the goddamned FBI. I'd suggest you quit being an asshole and tell him what the hell happened the other night, you understand?" He came around the table and bent down, hovering threateningly in front of the boy's face. Morgan heard him hiss, "This is your last chance, you little fuck. You better cooperate, or they're going to be cutting that kid out of you in a prison cell, get it?"

Spencer didn't change expression, but Morgan saw his lips purse together and he blinked rapidly. Mueller straightened up and huffed in disgust. "He's all yours, Morgan. Hope you have better luck with him than what we've had." He turned on his heel and walked out, locking the door behind him.

Morgan watched him leave, then said, "Hey," in a gentle-but-businesslike tone. "Like he said, I'm Morgan. May I call you Spencer?" Morgan sat down, and noted that the boy was observing him closely. He shrugged slightly, then nodded.

"Okay, Spencer." Morgan picked up the folder and flipped through a few pages, then set it down. He caught Spencer's eye and smiled. "So, how are you feeling?" He tipped his head, indicating the boy's belly.

Spencer shrugged again, but ran his hands over his stomach, as if comforting the child within. "I'm okay."

"Yeah? No nausea, that kind of thing?"

Spencer shook his head. "That went away after the fourth month." In a low voice, he added, "Thank God."

"Yeah, I remember my mom going through that-it's rough, man. Everything else okay? Do you know what you're having-boy or girl?"

Spencer shook his head. "'They haven't done a sonogram yet."

"Really? And you're, what, six months along? I'd have thought they'd have done one by now."

"They won't do anything that costs extra unless the adoptive parents are willing to pay."

Surprised, Morgan put aside his official line of questioning. "And, they're not? Don't they want to know what they're getting?"

Spencer held Morgan's gaze for a second, then dropped his eyes to his lap. "There aren't any. Yet. Usually, a white child would go pretty quickly-I-I'm sorry, I don't mean-"

"I know, I understand. Go on."

"But... It's harder, with someone like me. Particularly now that it's known that the, uh, _condition_ may skip a generation. It's like trying to find adoptive parents for a child with a disability, you know? And, if the fetus is male, well-they know how difficult it will be for him. And for them. People think twice." He shifted his eyes to the side.

Morgan frowned. "What happens if no one-"

"Foster care." Spencer met his eyes and Morgan saw a flash of anger. "They won't let me keep it."

"Even if you wanted to?"

"No. Of course, as my father would tell you, that's the entire point of sending me away for the gestation period. So no one will know about my little... inconvenience." The boy rubbed the side of his belly and gave Morgan a grim look. "He certainly wouldn't want proof of his son's abnormality to come home to live with him."

Morgan paused for a moment, determined not to get completely distracted. "You know, Spencer, they're hell-bent on connecting you to this murder. Now, maybe you had something to do with it, or maybe you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time-but, whatever happened, you need to tell me the truth. I can help you. Okay?" Morgan studied the boy's face. He had regained his composure and had an almost mocking expression in his eyes.

"Are you really with the FBI?"

"Yeah, I am. Here." Morgan dug in his pocket and took out his ID. He laid it on the table in front of Spencer, and the boy studied it with interest.

"The BAU-wow." He looked up. "This is a BAU case?"

"No, not yet. I'm doing a consultation." Morgan gave him an encouraging smile. "You know about the BAU?"

Spencer nodded. "Oh, yeah. I'm very interested. I once got to tour the FBI facility in D.C. when I was a kid-this was before 9-11, of course-and I was fascinated. I even thought that, someday, I might..." The slight surge of enthusiasm in his voice dissipated, and he glanced down at his lap. "Well, that was a long time ago."

"Look, kid-I know you're dealing with a lot right now." Morgan gestured at Spencer's stomach. "It can't be easy, carrying the child of someone who sexually assaulted you. Someone you trusted. Maybe you acted out, maybe you lost your shit and-"

Spencer's face morphed into an amused frown. "You really think I murdered someone because my physics teacher forced himself on me?"

"Did you?"

"I-oh. I get it. You're good, Morgan." He smiled and shook his head admiringly, then looked down at his hands.

"Have you spoken to legal counsel?"

"I have. If that's what you want to call it."

"Was it explained to you that, in the absence of a statement from you, you'll be in custody until the DNA evidence comes back? Assuming it doesn't implicate you further."

"I understand that."

"And you're okay with it."

"Beats Emma Sanders' Home for Wayward Freaks. Trust me. At least I have a cell to myself."

"Not talking's not helping anything."

"It's fine." The boy's voice faltered a bit and he closed his eyes tiredly. "I really don't have anything to say to you, Agent Morgan. I'd like to go back to my cell now."

Morgan forced down a surge of impatience. "Listen. Maybe you didn't kill Mary Amos, but someone did. And, they probably didn't mention this to you, but there have been two other women murdered in a similar fashion, which means it's possible we have a serial killer on the loose. And, if that's true, he'll kill again. He might be looking for his next victim right now. So, if you know anything-if you saw something, heard something, _anything_-it could help put us on the right track and save lives. Understand?"

Spencer's eyes had widened. "Wait-two other women have been... When? Where?"

"That's beside the point right now. Let's focus on what happened the other night."

Spencer stared at him, his brow furrowed. Then, he looked past Morgan, to the observation window that appeared as a mirror from their side. He leaned forward as far as possible, given the expanse of his tummy, and whispered, "Are they listening?"

Morgan nodded. Spencer set his jaw and raised an eyebrow. Morgan understood. He stood up and rapped on the glass; Mueller came to the door and opened it.

Morgan's voice was firm.

"Cut the audio. _Now."_


	3. Down by the River

**A/N: Hello! Well, I hope this isn't a boring chapter, there's a lot of dialogue. Kind of necessary, tho'! Thanks so much for reading, more soon!**

**Love,**

**Seds**

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><p>"Cut the audio. <em>Now."<em>

Both the sheriff and the deputy stared at Morgan, then the deputy said, "Huh?" His bewildered look suggested that he had never had an outsider make such a demand of him before. Morgan narrowed his eyes.

"This is an FBI consultation. I said, cut the audio."

"Hey, you can't-" Mueller began.

"The hell I can't. Now, shut it down or I'll take the kid into federal custody and it'll be all over the news about how the Palmer locals can't handle their own investigations, you feel me?"

There was a long pause in which none of the men moved, but then the sheriff gave a slight nod, and the deputy flipped a switch. Morgan saw the light on the circuit board fade out.

"All right. Now, give me the key to the handcuffs."

"Are you fucking nuts? No way-"

"Oh, what do you think he's going to do, jump me? Just do it."

"Goddamn it..." Mueller pulled the key off a ring and threw it to Morgan. Morgan returned to the interrogation room, closed the door and sat down. He reached for Spencer's bound hands, and said, "I don't think these are really necessary." He popped open the cuffs; Spencer gratefully rubbed his wrists and said "Thank you," in a low voice. Then, he looked up and smiled slightly. It wasn't much, but it was a step in the right direction, and Morgan took the opportunity to establish eye contact with him.

"All right, Spencer. Let's start with you answering one simple question for me. Did you kill Mary Amos?"

The boy held his eyes unwaveringly and his answer came without hesitation, while lacking the studied ease that Morgan was used to hearing from sociopaths. "No."

Morgan managed to repress a sigh of relief. It would be entirely too easy to let his emotions overtake his professional judgment, but he couldn't help being pleased to find that the boy at least appeared to be telling the truth.

"Okay-I believe you. Now, talk to me. What exactly happened that night? What were you doing down by the river?"

Spencer sighed and was quiet for a long moment. He finally seemed to gather his thoughts and began. "I couldn't sleep. It was hot in my room-the AC broke last week and they still haven't fixed it. Plus, my roommate snores. He makes these weird noises in his sleep-as a matter of fact, I strongly suspect that he has sleep apnea, which is a really serious health condition that can lead to high blood pressure, heart disease, depression, even weight gain, but he won't-"

"Kid." Morgan spoke gently. "Let's stick to the story. You were hot and you couldn't sleep. Then what?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Well-the baby was kicking really hard. Every time I got comfortable, I'd get a punch in the ribs from the inside." Spencer actually laughed a little. "It's very active, these days. Which is good, that means it's healthy. Anyway, I kept trying to calm it down, to get it to go to sleep. I even sang to it, which I thought would be a mistake-I really can't sing-and, I'm sure it was just a coincidence, but... it seemed to hear me, and it settled down." Spencer was smiling, and he patted his stomach.

"I've been trying not to think about it too much. Mrs. Alderson-she's the boy's wing supervisor-she said they won't let me hold it after it's born." The smile faded from Spencer's face, and his shoulders slumped. "She said they're not even supposed to let the birth parent look at it, although sometimes they will, if you ask nicely."

Morgan could tell the boy was trying to sound matter-of-fact, but his voice quavered a bit, and he looked down and ran his hands over his rounded belly. When he glanced up, Morgan could see he was fighting tears. "I keep wondering if it's a boy or girl. What it'll look like. What it would feel like to... to hold it. I know I shouldn't, but-this fetus has been growing inside of me for months-moving around, responding to loud noises, kicking when I turn over in bed-it's a part of me, and... they might not even let me see its face." He paused to take a breath. "It's not fair," he said, almost to himself.

Morgan cleared his throat. "Okay. So, what did you do?"

"I got up and got dressed, then I snuck out into the hall. No one was around. There's a door at the far end-it's alarmed and locked, but I have some gadgets I brought with me-they let you bring some personal stuff, and I do magic as a hobby-and it was super-easy to disarm it. Then, it only took a couple of minutes to pick the lock. I got outside, and there was a little breeze blowing. I thought it might be even cooler down by the water, so I headed for the river.

"Once I got down there, I sat on the bank and... it _was_ cooler. The moon was in the sky, and it was so quiet. Peaceful. No boats, no people, just the water lapping. I heard a loon calling downriver, and-I don't know, I got up and started walking. And I... just kept going."

Morgan smiled. "You were running away."

Spencer nodded sheepishly. "Yeah. It was stupid, I know. I didn't have anything, no money, nothing, but, I kept thinking-if I could just get far enough away from that place, somehow I'd know what to do. Then... I guess I'd gone about a half mile when I heard a woman scream."

"Go on."

"I thought it must be kids fooling around, but, there was something about it-it was so _real-_then, she screamed again, and again, and again. I started running in that direction, but all of a sudden, the screaming stopped. It just... stopped. I came to the bridge. I looked down by the water, and I saw her. This woman-she was lying on her back, not moving. I went to her, and I felt for her pulse, but... there was so much blood. Her skin was slippery, my hand was covered in it, I could smell it... then, all of a sudden, she opened her eyes and grabbed my hand. I... I've never seen such... terror in someone's eyes. But, she saw me and, I guess she knew I wasn't going to hurt her. She said, 'Stay... Stay with me.'"

By now, tears were trickling down the boy's cheeks, and he absently brushed them away. "Maybe I should have run for help, but I couldn't leave her. I knew she was dying. I tried to staunch the blood with my hands, but... she had other wounds, I could tell by her breathing a lung had been punctured, and... She was looking into my eyes. I kept babbling something to her, like 'It's okay, it'll be okay,' even though I knew it wouldn't. Then... her grip loosened... a stream of blood came out of her mouth... And, her eyes clouded... it was as if someone had turned off the lights. She... died, right there. And there was nothing I could do for her. I looked around, but no one was there. I started heading up the bank, and when I got to the street, all I saw was a row of warehouses. I wasn't sure where to go, plus, I was feeling a little light-headed, and I guess I was sort of weaving around, looking for someone to help.

"Then, this cop car came around the corner. It stopped and the officers got out and started questioning me. I... guess I was in shock or something, because I couldn't even understand what they were saying. I pointed to where the dead woman was and after a while they put me in handcuffs and shoved me into the car. They kept yelling these questions at me, confusing me, and they were so _mean. _Then, one of them asked me why I'd done it, and suddenly, I realized-" The boy took a deep breath. "They thought _I _was the killer."

"So, what did you do?"

"All I could think of was something my dad once told me-he's an attorney-he said, 'If the cops ever decide to hassle you, just don't say anything. Keep quiet and call me.' That just kept going through my mind, _don't say anything_. So, I didn't." He tiredly dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his eyes.

Morgan sat quietly for a few moments, then said gently, "Spencer, I need you to focus on what happened when you found Mary on the ground. Did you hear anyone else speak? Did you see anyone? A weapon? Did she say or do anything else before she died? Anything you remember might help."

Spencer gave him a troubled look and shook his head. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I... there's something. Something about the bridge. But, it slips away every time I try to picture it. I'm sorry, I just-I was so scared for that woman. I wanted to help her, and-" His voice had developed into an anxious strain.

Morgan nodded. "Okay, okay, relax. This is a common reaction to a traumatic event. It'll come to you later. And, when it does, I want you to contact me immediately."

"Okay."

"Now-have you spoken with your dad?"

"I tried. But, I just got his answering machine, and haven't heard from him since."

"I'll see what I can do about getting a hold of him."

Spencer pursed his lips and looked down at his hands resting on his belly. "Don't bother, he won't help me."

Morgan gave him a puzzled glance. "Oh, come on. His son's in trouble-of course he'll help you."

"No. He doesn't want anything to do with me as long as I'm-like this. He doesn't want anyone to know he's the father of a 'breeder boy.' It might hurt his reputation back in Boston." Spencer bitterly spat out the last words.

"Look, don't worry, okay? I'm going to have a contact of mine in Quantico see about getting a rush put on those DNA results. Now that you've made a statement, they don't have anything else to hold you on, so I'll have them release you into my custody and I'll take you back to the home for the night."

"I don't want to go back there. I'd rather stay in jail. At least in there, it's air-conditioned."

It occurred to Morgan that the Emma Sanders Home must be a pretty grim place, if the boy preferred to spend the night in a jail cell. "Well, I'm sorry, kid, but they're your official guardians at this time. Although..." Morgan pondered for a moment. "I can tell them to wait until morning to do the paperwork. Hopefully, by then, I'll be able to contact your father and maybe we can work something out."

Spencer shrugged. "Yeah, well-good luck with that."

"He's your father. I think you underestimate him."

Spencer stared past Morgan. "I just wish he'd let me keep the baby," he said softly. "But, he won't. I know that."

Morgan sighed. He knew his job was to see to it that the boy stayed safe until he was cleared of suspicion in the Mary Amos murder, and that after that, he had no business concerning himself with the boy or his problems. But, this was one of the hardest parts of his job-turning his humanity on and off.

He caught Spencer's eye and smiled encouragingly. "I know this is tough. I can't imagine being in your situation. But, you're a smart kid, and you're going to get through this, and you're going to have a good life, and so will your baby. So, don't worry, okay?"

Years of practice helped Morgan say the words as if he meant them.


	4. A Phone Call

**A/N: Hello! Sorry for the wait on this chapter! **

**I hope you guys keep up with the CM Chit Chat forum-there's a fun new prompt challenge going on, and they just posted the nomination list for the Profiler's Choice Awards. Check it out! **

**Love,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>Morgan cabbed it to his downtown hotel room and immediately got on the phone to Garcia. She answered, her voice every bit as perky and sex-drenched at 8:00 at night as it was during the day-or, at least, as it was whenever she spoke to Derek Morgan.<p>

"Well, well, the Chocolate Adonis is thinking of me across the miles, how delicious! Speak, my darling, tell me of your dreams."

Morgan rolled his eyes in amusement. "Hi, baby girl. No dreams, this is a work call."

Garcia dropped the sexy lilt. "Oh, rats. You do know I'm off-duty, right? That I actually do have a life outside the BAU?" She picked up her remote and decreased the volume on her TV a bit.

"Yeah, I know. That's why this is called asking for a _favor_. Please? And, I _am_ prepared to beg."

"Oh, I get a 'please?' And, an offer of begging? Hm, this is going incredibly well so far. Ask away."

"I was hoping you could lean on somebody in the D.C. lab to get a DNA test pushed through."

"Phfttt. You're wasting a Garcia favor on something I could do with one hand tied behind my virtual back? Not very strategic of you, pumpkin."

"I got a Part 2."

"Okay, you didn't mention that in your original supplication, but I'm willing to overlook it. Shoot. What's Part 2?"

"I need you to track down the current whereabouts of a man named William Reid, an attorney in Boston. I have his home address and phone number, but he's not returning calls. Could you see if he's made any travel arrangements recently?"

"God, Derek, I hardly even need to wake up for that one. Just let me log on, sweet-cheeks." The sound of rapid keyboard-tapping was audible over the phone. After a few moments of humming accompaniment, Garcia resumed speaking. "Ha, here we go. William Reid is on a cruise to the Caribbean. He left three days ago, which means he is presently out to sea, and thus, far out of range of a cell phone signal."

"Hmm. But, they can get internet out there, right? I guess I could email him."

"Sure, and if he's a workaholic, he'll be checking his messages on the ship. But, he might be trying to get away from it all and relax, if the fact that he's recently been treated for stress-related symptoms has any bearing on the situation."

"He has?"

"Yup, as evidenced by charges to one Dr. Phillips, a psychiatrist, and a subsequent purchase of Xanax at a local drugstore."

"Damn, woman, no one's got any secrets from you, do they? Okay, I'll give emailing him a shot and see what happens. How long's his cruise for?"

"Ten days, so he'll be back in a week."

"Great."

Garcia paused, waiting to see if Morgan would give her any more information. When he didn't, she asked, "What's going on, sugar?"

Morgan proceeded to give Garcia a run-down on the Spencer Reid situation, along with the details she'd need in order to put a rush on the DNA test. Garcia made notes and clucked sympathetically.

"How awful for that poor boy!"

"Yeah, it's a tough deal. It's nice that his dad's off enjoying himself on a cruise while his pregnant teenage son is facing a murder investigation."

"Well, tell him to hang in there. I'll make a call or two, and I bet we have a test result within, oh, twenty-four hours. That, or a certain D.C. lab supervisor will have a very challenging time explaining to his wife about his behavior at last year's Halloween party."

"That's my girl. Thanks, baby-I owe you."

"Oh, yes. Indeed you do."

"That's all right, it's all good. I'll talk at you later."

"Bye, gorgeous."

"Back at you, mama."

Morgan hung up and pulled out his laptop. He fired it up and sent an email to William Reid, explaining Spencer's predicament and asking that he either respond to Morgan or contact his son directly-and, as soon as possible.

Morgan wondered how soon that might be.

* * *

><p>In the morning, Morgan returned to the police station to personally collect Spencer and return him to the Emma Sanders Home. When he walked into Mueller's office, he found Spencer sitting at a desk, his hands clenched in his lap and his head down, his hair hanging lankly in his face. He looked up when Morgan came in, then dropped his eyes again. He was even paler than he had been the night before.<p>

Mueller and his deputy were standing on either side of Spencer, staring at him in consternation.

"What's going on?" Morgan asked.

"Your boy, here, is a piece of work," Mueller spat in disgust.

"Oh, yeah? What'd he do?"

"I didn't do anything." Spencer's voice was small but firm.

"Come with me." Mueller gestured to Morgan and strode out of the room. Morgan tried to cast an assuring glance at Spencer, but his eyes were fixed on the floor. Morgan followed Mueller to another office, and the sheriff closed the door behind them. He pulled off his hat, and smoothed his fingers through his closely-shorn hair.

"A few minutes ago, Reid got a phone call from his father."

"Good. I emailed him last night, asking him to call him."

"Yeah? Okay, only your boy says it wasn't his dad."

Morgan narrowed his eyes. "Then, who was it?"

"He said he didn't know, but that he threatened him."

"Threatened him? Why? What'd the dude say?"

"That he knows the kid saw him the night of the murder, and that he's going to kill him and his baby."

"Shit."

"Oh, please-you believe him?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, let's see-maybe the little bastard really _did _kill Mary Amos and now he's come up with a way to take the heat off of himself so he can get out of here and take it on the lam. Or, maybe he just wants a little more attention. Maybe, since Daddy dearest didn't come when he called, he's feeling under-appreciated, and-"

Morgan felt like slamming a fist against the wall, but he controlled himself and spoke in a strained but even tone. "Or, maybe, he witnessed something incriminating that night which the trauma's causing him to block out. Maybe, the murderer happened to get a good look at him, put two and two together and figured out who he is. And, maybe, he's trying to put a scare into him to keep him from talking. Or-_maybe_-there really is a psychopath out there waiting to kill him."

Mueller shook his head dismissively. "Look, I took the call myself, the guy introduced himself as William Reid. How would the killer know the boy's father's name if he was just some random guy?"

Morgan thought of Garcia's expertise at information gathering, and he shook his head. "Anybody can find out just about anything about anybody these days, that doesn't mean a damn thing. Speaking of which, what about you? Don't you people have _any_ modern technology in this berg? Can you at least check the caller ID to see where the call came from?"

"They're working on that. But-"

Just then, the deputy stuck his head in. "Call came from a local pay phone, chief."

Morgan lifted his hands in a "See?" gesture. "I happen to know William Reid is on a cruise ship on the Pacific Ocean right now. Not much chance he could make it to a pay phone in Palmer, Virginia by this morning, is there?"

The sheriff gave him an irritable sneer. "All right, fine. But, I still don't like letting the little freak out of police custody without the DNA confirmation."

"I've got somebody working on that." Morgan chewed his lip thoughtfully. "But, I don't like the idea of leaving him at that home by himself, either, if he's in the sights of a murderer. I doubt the place has much in the way of security."

"So, leave him with us."

"I think the kid's spent enough time behind bars for right now." Morgan sighed. "I'll keep him with me for the day."

"And, do what?"

"I need to consult with my team. If my boss agrees, I'm going to poke around a little and see if I can find out what Mary Amos was doing here in the first place, and if she had dealings with anyone that'll remember her."

Mueller gave him a sharp look. "This is still our case, Agent."

"I'm aware of that. You object to a little help?"

"Just don't overstep. You know what I'm talking about."

"Don't worry, I'll get permission first. But, I don't suppose you'd be willing to go ahead and share whatever you've come up with so far?"

The sheriff pursed his lips into a thin line. "You make this a BAU case, and I'll give you whatever you need." He slapped his hat free of dust, then put it back on his head. "It's our policy to cooperate with the Feds, you know," he said snarkily.

He then strode out, and Morgan followed him back to the office.

* * *

><p>Spencer looked up when Morgan returned to the room and Morgan gave him a hearty smile.<p>

"All right, Spencer. You're coming with me."

Spencer rose to his feet, and Morgan was surprised at how far his perfectly rounded belly stuck out when he was standing upright. He had to lean back slightly to balance himself. "But-Agent Morgan, I really don't want to go back to the home." He dropped his voice. "Not just because it's an awful place, even though it is. It's because I won't feel safe there."

He glanced around and noted the sheriff and deputy were occupied enough not to be paying attention to him, then he turned back and looked into Morgan's eyes. "I'm not a coward. If it were just me, I wouldn't care, I could handle it. But, that man on the phone-he said he'd kill my baby." Spencer sucked in his lower lip for a second, then took a deep breath and added, "He said he'd cut it out of me and make me watch while he slit its throat. Then he'd do the same to me. I can't let anything happen to my child. I have to protect it, and in this condition, I can't-"

"Hey, it's okay. I agree with you about the home. We're going to stop in and get your stuff, then I'm going to take you back to my hotel room and you can watch TV, play video games and order room service to your heart's content while I do some work. We'll see what the day brings as to whether we stay in town. If things are still up in the air by this evening, I may have to bring you back to Quantico. But, don't worry. I won't leave you at the home while there's a chance you're in danger."

Relief washed away the tense expression on the boy's face, and he actually smiled. Morgan noticed his face lit up-he looked like a completely different person.

"Oh, God-that's great. Thank you. I'll... I'll try not to be any trouble."

"That's fine, I'm sure you won't be. Come on, I'm ready to get out of this place, and I bet you are, too. Are you hungry?"

"Yes. Yes, I am." As if on cue, the boy's tummy rumbled, and he ran a hand soothingly over his belly.

"Okay, we'll stop and get something on the way. Mueller, is somebody available to give us a ride to the home and then to the hotel, or should I get us a cab?"

Mueller gave a long-suffering sigh. "I don't have anyone to spare to chauffeur you guys around." He reached into his pocket and reluctantly pulled out a set of car keys. "Here, take my personal vehicle. Just try not to fuck it up."

He tossed the keys to Morgan, who caught them easily. He grinned. "I'll do my best."

Mueller led them to his car, watched them get in and drive away. He shook his head disgustedly. So far, there had been nothing good about the way this whole case had gone, but he was glad to get the little freak-boy off his hands.

Even if he was now riding around in his own personal vehicle.


	5. Breakfast

**A/N: Ooo, an update in less than a week, I'm impressed with myself, lol! Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed and faved and alerted this story so far-I really appreciate it, you guys-you're the best!**

**Just a warning, please be aware that this chapter has Spencer and Morgan making reference to their pasts-rape and child molestation are mentioned. Nothing graphic, but I wanted to let you know, just in case it's an issue for anyone.**

**Hugs,  
><strong>

**Seds**

* * *

><p>"So, what are you in the mood for, youngster?" Morgan's stomach growled as he drove Sheriff Mueller's oversized SUV along a street lined on either side with fast food eateries. Spencer watched as the garish display of signs and banners touting burger specials passed by; Morgan noted he had a less than enthusiastic expression on his face.<p>

"Anything's fine."

"Aw, come on. You been eating jailhouse food for a couple of days, don't you want a McSomething-or-Other? How about a Burger Heaven breakfast burrito?" Spencer didn't answer, and Morgan glanced over at him. "Isn't that the kind of stuff the kids go for these days?"

"Uh-well, I wouldn't know about that. But, I can tell you, jailhouse food actually compares favorably to this sort of thing, in my opinion." He dismissively waved a hand toward the street.

"Seriously? You don't like fast food?"

"No, not really. The ingredients they use are highly questionable, and it's all loaded with chemical preservatives anyway. Not very healthy, especially for a growing fetus. Although, I guess it's okay, once in a while."

Morgan chuckled. "Okay, I hear you. I saw a nice-looking cafe a couple of miles back, we can go there. We'll fill you full of bacon and eggs and toast and-"

Spencer shot him a look. "Oh, no-any of these places would be fine. I'd really rather just do a drive-through." He pulled the sides of his blue shirt together, uncomfortably attempting to cover the taut stretch of t-shirt that spanned his belly. Morgan didn't notice.

"Drive-through? You got any idea how many meals I gulp down behind the wheel in any given week because of my job? No way, kiddo, we'll hit the cafe. There, we can, you know, get comfortable-sit at a table and have somebody wait on us."

"Oh. Well, all right. I was just... "

"What?"

"Nothing. I just hate being stared at while I'm eating, that's all." Reid sighed and let his head fall back against the headrest.

"Stared at? Why would anybody-" Morgan looked over, puzzled, and saw Spencer's hand resting on his tummy. Oh, Jesus. He'd forgotten. Somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten he was with a "breeder boy," forgotten how people gawked and snickered and pointed when one was spotted out in public. Of course the kid felt self-conscious. Morgan felt a rise of anger warm his ears, and he pursed his lips.

"Listen, Spencer, you're with _me_. Anybody looks at you crossways, and I'll give 'em a little lesson in respect, know what I'm saying?"

Morgan's fierce tone caused a grin to tug at Spencer's lips. "You know, I'd kind of like to see that."

"Yeah? So, you're with me?"

"Yeah. I'm with you."

"All right, then." Morgan made a U-turn and headed back toward the cafe.

* * *

><p>Entering the cafe turned out to be blessedly uneventful. It wasn't overly crowded and the patrons that were there were apparently too preoccupied with their food and workday preparations to instigate any trouble. But, Morgan was sharply aware of several sets of eyes being raised from either a coffee cup, a morning paper, or a plate of eggs to coldly regard him as he entered their quiet establishment.<p>

Such things didn't especially bother the agent-he'd gotten used to moments like that after traveling around in certain areas of the American South-but, he felt his anger resurge as those same eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Spencer's swollen belly. He saw more than one person do a double-take and lean over to whisper to whomever happened to be nearby.

Spencer shuffled closely behind Morgan, his head down and his arms crossed over his middle. A waitress offered them a table in back, but Morgan gestured toward a booth by the window. She seated them, placed menus in front of them, then filled their water glasses. Morgan surveyed the room and the few people still staring at them dropped their eyes and went back to their meals.

Spencer determinedly gazed out the window, but when Morgan settled in across from him, he seemed to relax a bit. He picked up the menu and scanned one side in one quick swoop, then turned it over and did the same to the back before decisively setting it down. Morgan raised an eyebrow. He hadn't even made it past the appetizers.

"You already know what you're having?"

"Yeah, the egg-white omelet, whole-wheat toast and a side of fruit."

Morgan frowned at his own menu. "Where do you see that?"

"On the front, two thirds of the way down, under 'Good 'N' Healthy.' That's 'and' spelled apostrophe-n-apostrophe, by the way-always a sign of fine dining. See?" He jabbed a finger at the selection on Morgan's menu, but the agent didn't bother to look. He was staring at Spencer.

"So, you picked that out of this whole long list of food in like, what, two seconds? How'd you do that?"

"I... read pretty quickly." Spencer smiled bashfully. "And... I remember what I read. It's called having an eidetic memory." He shrugged and went back to looking out the window.

"So, you must be pretty smart, huh?"

"Um... I have an above average IQ, yes."

"Wow. So-what are you going to be when you grow up? Still considering the FBI?"

Spencer sighed. "I don't know. My father's determined that I should go to either law school or medical school. But, I don't want to do either. Law is incredibly boring, unless you're dealing with a high profile case, then it's really stressful. And, medicine... I don't know, there're so many issues that take away from the actual practice, from helping people." He laughed ruefully. "Besides, I've always hated doctors, as a species."

"Well, there's lots of other stuff you could do."

"Yes... I'm very interested in the sciences. Physics, engineering, chemistry-it's all fascinating to me." He took a sip of water. "Of course, the study of the human mind is the most intriguing of all. But... it's sort of a moot point, right now."

The waitress came to take their orders and after she left, Morgan fixed Spencer with an appraising gaze. "A moot point? Oh, come on. This pregnancy might be a set-back, but my God, kid, you're so young. You have plenty of time."

Spencer raised his eyes to Morgan's. "You don't understand. Professor Lindley was helping me prepare to start college next fall. Now..."

"College? You're fifteen!"

"I was set to graduate at the end of December. Of course, that's not happening."

Spencer twiddled with his napkin, but spoke matter-of-factly. Morgan waited for him to continue, but he seemed content to play with his silverware. Morgan couldn't stand it; after a long silence, he asked, "So, who's Professor Lindley?"

Spencer looked down and ran a hand over his belly. "The man who impregnated me."

Morgan leaned forward slightly. "You mean, the man who raped you." He said it gently, but with a firmness that left no room for argument about the term. The tension seemed to flood back into Spencer's posture.

"He taught physics at the university. My father hired him to tutor me after it was suggested that I could graduate early from high school. Professor Lindley said that, with his recommendation, I could get into one of the science programs at MIT, or anywhere, really. He thought I had... a lot of potential."

Morgan had a sudden rush of memories. Carl Buford's voice-_You can do anything you want, Derek-you've got real talent... _Summers at a lake house. His first taste of wine, the sense of excitement and anticipation. And, what came after...

"You trusted him."

Spencer swirled the ice in his glass of water. "Yeah... I don't really want to talk about this right now, if you don't mind."

"Okay. I understand completely. But, it might help to talk to someone, sometime. Sometime when you're ready." Morgan waited until the boy looked at him again. "I wish I had."

Spencer's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Hey, man-you know. When I was thirteen, I was... molested by an adult I trusted. I know exactly what you're talking about, I know how you feel-"

"Oh, really? Did he get you pregnant?"

Morgan stared, startled by the sudden venom in the boy's voice. "Uh-no. I'm not-"

"Yeah, you're not one of us freaks, are you?"

Morgan found himself floundering for words, and he finally gave up and just shook his head. Spencer gave a derisive "hmph."

"Right. Well, then, I'm very sorry you went through that, and I appreciate you trying to do a little therapy on the fly, but I'm afraid you really have no idea of what I'm going through. So, stop it." Spencer leaned back and irritably folded his arms across his chest. "Just stop it," he muttered, almost to himself. He seemed not to notice when the waitress brought their orders. He let the hot meal sit in front of him, untouched.

Morgan squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, determined not to get angry with the boy. It took some self-control, but soon the annoyance passed and he managed to speak calmly.

"Okay, what did you mean by that? Stop what?"

"Stop trying to empathize with me."

"Look, kid-"

"No, you look. You're a Federal agent-dealing with me is just part of your job. You're like the people at the home, always trying to get me to talk about things that they don't understand. 'You need to get it out in the open, Spencer. Tell me where he touched you, Spencer. Tell me what he did to you, you'll feel better.' Yeah, right. You want to know what _I _think? I think it gets them off."

Slightly stunned, Morgan took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. "Hey, I'm sorry. I wasn't-I just thought... I thought it might help to talk to someone who'd been through that kind of... betrayal. But, you're right-I _don't_ know what you're going through, now, with the pregnancy and all." He paused and the tension between them hung in the air. Then, Morgan said gently, "It must be tough."

Spencer had gone back to staring out the window, a bitter set to his jaw. Morgan took the salt and pepper and started seasoning his eggs, just to have something to do, but then he heard a sniff. He looked up to see Spencer swiping angrily at his eyes with his sleeve. Morgan's irritation flooded away, and left him feeling foolish instead. Why had he cockily thought he could establish an instant rapport with someone in Spencer's situation? The kid was right. He'd never truly understand what he was going through. _Damn Hotch-I knew this wouldn't work. Damn Hotch for sending me on this assignment in the first place..._

"Oh, hell. Spencer, I-"

"I'm sorry." Spencer's voice was now a little shaky. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that, you were only trying to help. I guess I'm... hormonal, or something." He was looking at Morgan apologetically. He blinked back the tears, but the look in his eyes was sad and tired. "Are we okay?"

"Of course. Listen, you're stressed out of your gourd, I know that. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks."

"Come on, eat your breakfast. That baby needs nourishment, and you look like you could stand to put a little meat on your bones, too." Morgan gave him an encouraging grin and Spencer shyly smiled back.

"Okay. I _am_ hungry." He took a bite of his omelet, chewed and swallowed, and Morgan noted a slightly disgusted look on his face.

"What's the matter?"

"This doesn't have any flavor. Being healthy sucks. I miss cholesterol."

"Sorry, man." Morgan held the salt out to him. Spencer shook his head at first, thought about it, then took it and gave the omelet a good coating of the savory seasoning. He sampled it and nodded, pleased.

"Mm, better." He shrugged. "So, I'll have swollen ankles." He grinned at Morgan, and it again struck Morgan how that simple gesture seemed to transform the boy's face.

"Although, I guess that's the least of my worries right now," Spencer said, ruefully.

"I have it on good authority that we'll get the DNA results sometime today. Assuming they clear you-and, they will, right?-at least you won't have to worry about dealing with Mueller anymore. That's something, isn't it?"

Spencer nodded, and began to give his full attention to his breakfast. Morgan offered him a slice of bacon, which he wolfed down gratefully. Slowly, they began to chat amiably over their meal.

When they were done, Morgan paid the tab, courtesy of the US government, and they went to the car, piled in, and headed for the Emma Sanders Home to gather Spencer's things.


	6. The Home

**A/N: Ugh, this is a long chapter, sorry. In it, we learn a bit more about the Home where Spencer's been a resident, and more about the "breeder boys" situation. And, something good finally happens for Spencer! Then, something bad happens... Also, warning, there is a discussion containing references to abortion and medical procedures, just so you know. Thank you to everyone for the reading, and the reviewing, it is so appreciated!**

**Hugs,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>An early morning fog hung low and gray over the city of Palmer, Virginia. Behind the wheel of Sheriff Mueller's massive SUV, Morgan carefully wound his way through the misty hills overlooking the downtown area. He'd set the GPS and was grateful to have it, as the road became more and more remote, and helpful signs became fewer and fewer.<p>

Spencer stared out the window. "I think it's going to rain."

"Feels like it."

"We'd better hurry. The road's pretty bad around the Home. A good shower can make it almost impassable, and I don't want to have to hang around that place any longer than absolutely necessary."

Morgan grinned. "Hey, we've got Sheriff Asshole's monster truck. I bet this thing could make it through a tsunami."

Spencer glanced over at him and smiled a little. "Wow, nothing fazes you, does it? I wish I had your confidence."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not scared of anything. I just... worry about everything." He shrugged. "I guess I'd make a pretty terrible FBI agent, huh?"

"Hey, you're just a kid. You'll come into your own, just wait." _Kid's too damn smart NOT_ _to be worried about everything,_ he thought. He remembered the brashness of his youth, and it occurred to him that he would have done well to worry a little more than he had about some of his exploits. "Anyway, this shouldn't take long. Just have to sign some papers and get your stuff, then we'll be out of there."

"Okay. I don't have a lot, it's mostly clothes and books. Shouldn't take long," he repeated comfortingly, almost to himself.

Morgan turned his attention from the boy to the road. He slowed down even more; he had to pay close attention to the GPS in order not to miss their turn. Once he made it, he cruised bumpily along a winding, unpaved road that snaked along the hillside. Just when he thought they'd taken a wrong turn after all, they came to a tall iron fence with a gate marked with a small brass address plate. There was a keypad, and Spencer gave Morgan the code to get in.

The gate slowly swung open, and Morgan drove through, spotting what appeared to be a Victorian-style mansion down at the end of a tree-lined driveway. In the gloomy autumn morning, the house had a hulking appearance, dark and fortress-like behind a stand of spiky firs.

"Hey, man, I'm starting to get a Dickens vibe to this place," Morgan quipped, and Spencer grunted his agreement.

"You have no idea."

Morgan parked in front, and got out of the vehicle. Up close, the house was a bit shabby, with peeling paint and a sagging porch to greet him. He approached the front door and read a hand-written sign which said, "Ring bell for admittance," with an arrow pointing to a buzzer on the door frame. He pushed it, and in a moment, a young woman opened the door.

"Yes?"

Morgan held up his badge. "I'm Agent Morgan with the FBI. We're here to collect Spencer Reid's things."

"Uh-huh. We've been waiting for you." The girl gave him a disapproving look, but gestured for him to come in. Spencer followed and received an even more disapproving frown.

"Our director, Mrs. Epstein, is in her office. She has paperwork." The girl led them down a hallway and rapped on a door. "Come in," came the voice on the other side, and the girl let them in, then flounced back to the front desk.

"Ah, Spencer. Did you enjoy your little getaway?" the woman inside asked dryly. She was a stout, middle-aged woman with short hair dyed red, and glasses perched on the end of her nose. She was sitting behind a large, cluttered desk.

"It had its moments," Spencer muttered.

Morgan stepped up to the desk. "Ma'am, we just need to get his things and then we'll be on our way."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you're in a terrible hurry. That's fine, we can use the bed. But, nevertheless, there are forms to fill out. Sit down, I have them right here." Mrs. Epstein briskly pulled out a folder, removed some papers and set them on the desk in front of an empty chair. She placed a pen on top and looked at Morgan expectantly. Morgan glanced at Spencer, then took a seat and began looking through the paperwork.

Mrs. Epstein spoke into an intercom. "Mattie, come in here, please." She glanced at the pregnant young man. "Spencer, Mattie will take you down to the clinic. You need a check-up before I can release you."

"I'm fine."

"I'm sure you are, dear, but it's for the Home's protection as well as your own. Your father would have my head on a platter if I let you go and there was something wrong. Mattie, take Spencer downstairs, will you? They're expecting him."

Spencer gave Morgan a hopeless look, but the girl from the front desk opened the door and gestured, and Spencer obediently followed her out of the room. Morgan watched him leave, then went back to the forms. "So-you have a lot of boys in residence here, Mrs. Epstein?" he asked conversationally.

"Oh, my, yes. We're the only facility on the east coast that takes boys, so they come from all over. At the moment, we actually have more boys than girls." The woman took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Goddamned US government. Thanks to the military's unrestricted dabbling in things they knew nothing about, this travesty has been revisited on the third generation. You'd think people would learn, but, no." She replaced her glasses and took up a piece of paper.

"We've been urging the Department of Health to start an awareness campaign, to have at-risk boys genetically tested before the age of twelve, but there's still such resistance. People, men especially, want to pretend the condition doesn't exist, rather than taking steps to assure that such regrettable things don't happen." She nudged her chin pityingly in the direction of Spencer's departure. "Then, when it _does_ happen-the lad turns out to be gay, or there's forcible sexual contact-well, oh, dear; they're horrified to discover their son's a breeder boy. It's pathetic, the male ego."

Morgan looked up. "I don't mean to be harsh, but-I'm surprised there aren't more, you know... terminations."

Mrs. Epstein nodded. "I'm sure there would be, but it's very different for males-it means major surgery. The different aspects of anatomy associated with the... condition aren't routinely taught in medical school, so it's a bit tricky under the best of circumstances. Most doctors don't want the liability."

Morgan thought that over, then gave her a puzzled look. "'Aspects of anatomy.' You mean-"

Mrs. Epstein chuckled slightly. "Yes, there's not a comparable... access route to the fetus, as in a female. To end the pregnancy, they have to go in through the belly, like a Caesarean section. Insurance won't cover it, and it's a terrible hot-button political issue. Reputable doctors avoid it, and the others... well, there have been quite a few botched procedures, even deaths. Anyone who cares about their son would never allow it, even though plenty of boys would be willing to take the chance rather than go through the ordeal of pregnancy. Not to mention the birth process."

Morgan's puzzlement continued. "Wait-you're saying that, when it comes time for the baby to... come out... there's no place for it to go?"

"Well, the structure of the vaginal canal is absent. These young men are still _male_, regardless of the unfortunate circumstances of their genetic mutation. The makeshift uterus begins contracting as if to expel the infant, but there's no channel for it to go into, so it has to be removed surgically. If it's not, well... it's unlikely that either the parent or the baby would survive. That's another reason they send their sons to us-we have first-rate birthing facilities on the premises, with doctors experienced in the procedure on call at all times. It eliminates the risk of the parent unexpectedly going into labor away from nearby medical care."

Morgan mulled over that information as he filled in his ID number and signed his name on the last release form, stating he was accepting full responsibility for Spencer Reid's safety. He leaned back and glanced around the room. There were numerous awards and commendations, several licenses, and photographs of various dignitaries, including Emma Sanders herself, a tiny, severe-looking woman with a jutting jaw line. She didn't look young, even back in the 1930's when she founded the Home.

Suddenly, the intercom buzzed. "Mrs. Epstein?"

"Yes, Mattie."

"There's a problem. The nurse is asking for a consultation with Spencer's guardian."

Morgan felt worry tug at his gut. "I guess that's me. What's wrong?"

"We'd best handle this face-to-face. I'll take you down there." Mrs. Epstein rose, and Morgan followed her down a long hallway lined with doors with little plaques for names on them-one toward the end said "Spencer Reid"-then down a rather dark, musty-smelling stairwell.

When they reached the bottom, she opened a door that led into a brightly-lit clinic. Mattie met them and took them to an examination room where Spencer was sitting on the exam table with a discouraged look on his face. An African-American woman in scrubs was writing something on a chart. She looked up, and Epstein came in and introduced Morgan to her.

"Hello. I'm Tanya." She smiled and shook Morgan's hand. "So, you're here to take our little resident genius away from us?"

"Uh-yeah, actually."

"Well, we'll see. Everything's basically normal, both Spencer's and the baby's heart rates are good, but I'm afraid his blood pressure is slightly elevated."

Epstein made an I-knew-it noise and waggled a finger at Spencer. "Not surprising, given all the trouble you've caused for yourself and everyone else around here, lately."

Spencer's eyes flashed. "I feel fine. I just want to get out of here."

Tanya shook her head. "Sorry, baby, I can't release you without making sure you're not about to go into labor. And, with you being a guy and all, that's a little bit of a challenge."

"So, what do we do?" Morgan asked.

"A sonogram would tell me what I need to know."

Spencer perked up. Morgan nodded. "So-go ahead and do one."

"Well, as his temporary guardian, you'll need to give your written approval for the procedure, and you'll also have to arrange for payment. Otherwise, we'll need to keep him here until his BP is back down to normal, and there's no way of knowing when-or if-that'll happen. Are you willing to sign off on a sonogram?"

Morgan felt a little bit like he'd dropped down a rabbit hole. He'd never heard of an FBI agent having to give approval on a pre-natal sonogram in the line of duty before. "Wow. I don't know-the budget really doesn't allow for such things..." A vision of Hotch's face flashed into Morgan's mind. He reviewed his team's expense reports thoroughly-very thoroughly-and the thought of trying to explain that particular item to him made Morgan cringe.

He turned and noticed that Spencer was pensively biting his lip, a pleading look in his eyes. Morgan glanced at the stern face of Mrs. Epstein, then at Mattie's bored expression. "Please, Agent Morgan," Spencer whispered. Morgan leaned forward so he could hear.

"I really can't stand being here much longer. And-this way, I could be sure that the baby's okay." His voice had an urgent tone. "Also, I could find out if I'm having a boy or a girl. I know it doesn't really matter, but... this may be my only chance to find out, if my dad has anything to say about it. And, I don't know-I'd just like to know." He sought Morgan's eyes and looked straight into them. "Please?"

Morgan sighed. He had no desire to hang around the gloomy Home, himself, and he needed to contact the team and get to work on the case. Plus, it would have to help lower the kid's stress level if his questions about the baby were answered, which might make it easier for him to remember what had happened the night Mary Amos was killed. So, surely he could make Hotch see that the sonogram was a legitimate business expense. _Won't be the first time I've had to do some fancy budget-related explaining, _he thought_. _He shrugged. "Yeah, sure, go ahead. Where's the paperwork?" Morgan glanced at Spencer, and was pleased to see an excited smile spread across the boy's face.

Tanya smiled, too, as she handed Morgan the forms. To Spencer, she said, "Come on, buddy, let's get you ready. We're going to take a look at that little tadpole in there." She paused at the door and turned to Morgan. "I'm going to take him across the hall for this-would you like to wait down here, or-"

"Can't he come with me?" Spencer asked. "It's not an invasive procedure or anything." He gave her a hopeful look.

Tanya nodded. "Yeah, sure, it's all right. He can come if he wants to."

Morgan looked uncertainly at Spencer. "Ah-I don't know. That doesn't seem-appropriate, somehow." The thought of peering at the inhabitant of Spencer's uterus just seemed... bizarre. Clearly, the rabbit hole was getting deeper and deeper.

Spencer's smile faded and he looked dejectedly down at the floor, his hand resting on his rounded tummy. "Yeah, okay, I understand. I wish you would, though. This is kind of exciting-and, scary, too. It'd be nice to have someone in there with me. But, it's okay, I can see why you wouldn't want to. I guess it _would _be kind of creepy for you." Spencer pressed his lips together, then moved to follow Tanya out of the room.

Morgan was profoundly impressed by the ease with which the kid could take him from feeling on top of the world one minute, to feeling like a total jackass the next. _Jesus._ "Hey, no, kid, it's okay, I didn't mean it like that. If you're sure you want me in there-" Spencer nodded eagerly, and the sight made Morgan smile. "Then, okay, I'll be there. Just give me a second to get all this stuff signed. Don't start the show without me."

Tanya laughed and led Spencer off to get ready. Morgan finished the lengthy paperwork, then headed across the hall to see something he'd never imagined he'd have any reason to see-a baby growing inside a boy's belly.

* * *

><p>Mattie went back to the front desk. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and had just started scrolling through Facebook entries when the Home's telephone rang. Not bothering to look, she picked up the handset and held it in the crook of her neck.<p>

"Emma Sanders Home, this is Mattie speaking, how may I help you?" she rattled off, still looking at her friend's status messages.

"Yes, hello. This is William Reid, Spencer Reid's father. May I speak to him, please?"

"I'm sorry, but he's in the clinic at the moment. May I take a message?"

"In the clinic? Is he all right?"

"Oh, yes. They're just doing an exam before he leaves."

"Oh, so he _is_ leaving this morning?"

"Uh-huh. There's an FBI agent here to take him, as planned." Mattie idly clicked on a link that took her to a cute kitten's antics.

"Ah, I see. Well, thank you, I'll contact him later."

"Okay. Did you want to leave a message?"

"No, no message. Thank you."

"Thank you." Mattie hung up and typed "So bored. Somebody text me," into her phone, then hastily stuck it back in her pocket as she heard Mrs. Epstein come up from the basement.

The man she'd just spoken to hung up as well. He was sitting in a parked car down the block from the Palmer jail. He started his engine and pulled out onto the street, his lips set in a thin line.

He was headed for the Emma Sanders Home.


	7. The Sonogram

**A/N: Well, this is a short little chapter-but I wanted to let everyone know the results of Spencer's sonogram, hee. Hope you like it, loves. Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed so far, and also faved and alerted. (gives virtual hugs). No warnings for this chapter, just Spencer being anxious and a bit paranoid, lol...  
><strong>

**Seds**

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><p>Still in his street clothes, Spencer was perched on the exam table in the ultrasound room. He was nervously examining his fingernails when Morgan walked in; he looked up and gave him a lop-sided smile.<p>

"Hey."

"Hey. So-you're sure you want me in here, kid?"

Spencer nodded. "Yeah. I just keep thinking, what if there's something wrong? With the fetus, I mean. Like a... deformity or something." He glanced down at his hands again, then added, "It's already obvious this child's going to have a hard time finding a home. If it's faced with a physical challenge as well... I don't know." Spencer looked up and shrugged and worriedly bit his lip.

Morgan trained a skeptical stare on him. "You have any basis for being concerned about the baby's health?"

"Well, technically, no. Reports show that offspring born to the male birth-giver population-"

"Wait-'Male birth-giver population...?'"

"Yes-that's the term preferred by those of us living with the condition. A little more respectful than 'breeder boy,' I suppose. It was just recently coined by a guy in California who's started a movement attempting to gain political equality for us. Did you know that male pregnancy is not covered under Title VII of the Equal Rights Amendment? And, that insurance programs are not required to pay when a male gives birth? And that-"

"Spencer," Morgan said gently. "Could we stick to the thing you were just talking about?"

"Oh. Okay, sorry. Anyway, reports show that there have been no greater instances of birth defects, but-and, this is a big but-_those figures are based solely on information disseminated by the United States government_, and I have to say, I'm highly suspicious of them."

"Kid, I work for the government, and I don't blame you. But, still-"

"There's no assurance that the actual figures haven't been altered or covered up. I mean, look at what happened with the human radiation experiments done during the cold war. In fact, I would think this data would have been considered to be even more sensitive, given the far-reaching implications of male pregnancy, and-" Spencer's earnest dissertation halted when the whir of the ultrasound machine came on.

Morgan clapped a comforting hand on Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, hey. Chill out, man, it's going to be okay."

"I know. It just... keeps rankling with me." Spencer glanced behind him at Tanya as she typed information for the sonogram into a computer, then he turned back to Morgan. "I'm just glad to have someone with a clear head and real authority in here with me. _In case they try to detain me or something," _he added in an emphatic whisper.

Morgan gave him a quizzical look. "You got a real talent for getting worked up over nothing, don't you, kiddo?" he said lightly. "Listen, I'll be right here. If there's something wrong, we'll deal with it. But, it's my bet that you're worrying for nothing."

Spencer heaved a tired sigh, then Tanya said, "All right, honey-lie flat on your back for me. Now, unbutton your jeans and push 'em down a little." Spencer unhooked the jerry-rigged piece of twine he'd used to make his jeans fit, and Tanya nodded.

"That's right, get 'em down just under that baby-bump." Tanya fitted a sheet over Spencer's lower body, protecting his clothes as well as his dignity, while giving her necessary access to his belly. "Now, pull your shirt up-a little higher, there you go." Tanya smiled patiently as Spencer wriggled around, trying to get comfortable. With his midsection exposed in that way, he kept his gaze on the ultrasound's screen, and avoided Morgan's eyes.

Morgan was trying not to watch, but he couldn't help staring at the boy's swollen belly. Again, trying to resolve that a growing child existed inside the body of a young man was blowing his mind. He shook it off and pulled up a chair, then directed his focus to where Spencer was looking at the screen above them, which was showing nothing but blackness at the moment.

"Now, Spencer, this is going to be a little cold, okay?" Tanya said. Spencer nodded. She applied the conductive gel to Spencer's stomach, then took a transducer probe and held it up. "This isn't going to hurt at all, sweetheart. There'll be some pressure and it might feel a little funny, but you just need to relax, all right?"

"I understand," Spencer said.

Tanya began rolling the probe over Spencer's belly and the screen flickered with light. A steady whooshing sound came through the speakers, and suddenly, a grainy, yet very distinguishable, image of a small face and body came onto the screen. Morgan heard Spencer gasp.

"I can make out the face and limbs." Spencer spoke softly, almost reverently.

"Uh-huh, everything's right where it belongs," Tanya said reassuringly. "Now, hold your breath, honey. I'm going to press in real good here for a minute, bear with me. Whoa, you've got a squirmer! I'm looking for a little something-something... Hm. Nope, don't see one. There you go, sweetheart, look. See? Clear as a bell. You're having a baby girl."

"Oh," was all Spencer seemed to be able to say. He swallowed, then looked more searchingly at the image. "Sh-she seems to be okay, right?"

"Yep. Perfectly normal size, heart's working fine, and she's in the proper position for this point in the pregnancy."

Spencer and Morgan watched intently as Tanya ran the probe over key points in the circumference of Spencer's belly. She was humming slightly, stopping every so often to comment. "Umbilical cord's correctly placed..." "Placenta looks normal..." Finally, she set the probe aside and took a cloth and began wiping away the gel from Spencer's skin. "All good, baby, it's all good. You can get out of here as soon as you get your pants zipped up and I sign off on the release form." The cheerful woman grinned at Spencer and he smiled back. He reached down, pulled the sheet up over himself, then turned to look at Morgan.

Eyes wide, he said, "I'm having a little girl," disbelievingly.

"You sure are." Morgan felt unreasonably delighted and gave the boy a little shot on the arm. Spencer laughed as he was putting his clothes in order, then sat up. He slid off the table and looked hopefully at Morgan.

"Can we get out of here, now?" he asked.

"Yeah, but we've still got to get your stuff, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Spencer's shoulders slumped a little as he thought of having to go back to the room where he'd already spent so many unhappy hours.

"We'll run on up there, and while you're packing, I'll make a couple of phone calls."

"Okay."

Just then, Tanya put a signed form into Morgan's hands.

"Here you go. Just give that to Mrs. E on your way out."

"Thanks." Morgan looked over the form, then tipped his head at Tanya. "Appreciate your help with everything."

"No problem. But, listen, Spencer-you've got a clean bill of health, and I want you to keep it that way. So, knock it off with the sodium, okay?"

Spencer gave her a sheepish look. "Yes, ma'am."

"All right, then-take care." Tanya watched them head for the door, then something occurred to her. "Oh, wait! I've got a little souvenir for you."

Spencer turned back, looking curious. "What is it?"

"Now, I'm not supposed to do this-but, well... you were so worried..." Tanya reached down to a printer on the bottom of the ultrasound cart and tore something off. She turned and handed the paper to Spencer. He stared at it, then looked up and smiled.

"It's my baby. I can keep this?"

"Yeah, just don't tell Epstein-she'd have a hissy fit."

"Thank you."

Spencer carefully tucked the photo into his pocket, waved, and then he and Morgan headed back up the stairs to grab Spencer's things and check in with Garcia and Hotch.


	8. Leaving the Home

**A/N: Hey there-don't forget the Profiler's Choice Awards nominations! See the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum for details. Also, there's a Halloween Challenge, and a Christmas Fic Exchange coming up. They're super fun, please join us!**

**And... Here's Chapter Eight. I'm sorry I'm so slow with updates, sigh. But, please review! Thank you to all of you who are sticking with me and to everyone who's just started reading! **

**Seds**

* * *

><p>Spencer led Morgan to his room. They stood at the door; Spencer raised a hand and knocked. When no one answered, Spencer reached for the knob, then turned and looked at Morgan, reluctance in his face.<p>

"Can't we just go?"

Morgan tipped his head and gave him a reassuring smile. "No, now, you're going to want your stuff. Come on, I'll help you. This won't take long."

"Okay." Spencer took a breath, opened the door and stepped in. Morgan followed and did a sweep of the small room, home to two teenage boys.

He thought he could understand why Spencer preferred a jail cell.

There were no windows. The walls were painted a murky yellow color, and the floor was covered in worn gray carpet that held a decidedly funky odor. One side was cluttered with action figures, plastic models in various stages of completion, and piles of clothes strewn over the unmade iron bed. Pages torn from men's magazines were taped to the wall.

The other side-Spencer's, Morgan deduced-was neat, with no personal items on display other than several stacks of books and one framed photograph on top of a cheap chest of drawers in the corner. Morgan went straight over to it and picked it up.

It featured a pretty blonde woman and a nine- or ten-year-old Spencer. He was wearing thick dorky glasses and sported a bad haircut, but he had a happy smile on his face, and was contentedly leaning against the woman. Her arms were lovingly draped around his shoulders, and she was smiling, too.

"This your mom?" It occurred to Morgan that Spencer had not once mentioned his mother.

"Uh-huh."

"She's pretty." Morgan purposely used the present tense, and waited to see if Spencer would correct him. He didn't.

"Yeah."

Morgan gave him a few seconds to follow that up, but Spencer had begun jamming clothes from the chest into a backpack.

"You haven't told me anything about her."

"She... doesn't live with us, anymore."

"Oh?"

Spencer looked up. "She has psychological issues. Dad couldn't deal with her, and he sent her away. She never came back." He shrugged and opened another dresser drawer.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I hear from her pretty often, we write letters, and she calls once in a while."

"How long since you've seen her?"

"Three and a half years. We almost had my dad convinced to take me for a visit last spring-she's living in Las Vegas-but, all this happened, and, well..." He gestured at his belly and sighed.

"I see." Morgan wanted to ask more questions, but Spencer seemed done with the conversation. He watched the boy awkwardly drop down on all fours in order to poke around under the bed. "Need help?"

"No, I've got it." He brought out a second pair of shoes, struggled to his feet and continued packing.

"Well, then, I'll let you get on with it. I'm going to make a couple of calls."

"All right."

* * *

><p>Morgan stepped out into the hallway, took out his cell phone, and punched the number for Garcia's speed dial.<p>

"Hi there, hot cake," she answered.

"Hey, baby girl. So, how's that DNA test coming?"

"You must be psychic, in addition to all your other super powers-I was just about to call you. Got it back five minutes ago, and it's negative for your boy."

Morgan was surprised at the way relief flooded through his system. _"Yes. _That's fantastic. You sending that to the Palmer sheriff's department?"

"It's three keystrokes away. They should have it as... of... now."

"Great, thank you. You really are a miracle-worker, you know that?"

Garcia chuckled. "It's what I do, man-candy. I'll expect massive groveling at my feet, and chocolate-chip muffins upon your return. Make that the big ones, too, not the teensy kind."

"You got it, well, the muffins, anyway. So, about that DNA-did we get a hit in the database?"

"Unfortunately, no. The sample matches the DNA recovered from the other two victims, so it looks like we're three for three with one baddie, but that's _all_ we've got at the moment."

"Okay. I better see what Hotch wants to do."

"Yep, he's waiting to hear from you. Well, I'll talk at you later, I've got some important techno-stuff to do."

"More miracles?"

"Nah, just every-day brilliance. See you, lover."

"Later." Morgan clicked off, then called Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hey, Hotch, just talked to Garcia, and the kid's off the hook."

"Good. Has he remembered anything more about the murder?"

"No, not yet. But-someone pretending to be his father made a threatening phone call to him at the jail this morning, which means I'm not leaving him here alone, even though he's been cleared. I have him in my custody."

"All right. Hold on-I just got the report from Garcia." Hotch was silent for a moment as he read over the new information, then he spoke again. "Since the evidence implicates the same unsub in all three murders, I'm accepting this as a BAU case. We'll get on the jet and join you. Can you pick us up at the airfield?"

"Sure, I've got the use of the sheriff's vehicle."

"All right. Give us an hour and a half."

"Will do."

"And, Morgan-what's the boy like? Is he cooperating?"

"Yeah. He's a good kid, just scared and freaked out, especially now that he's been threatened. I'm hoping we can help him recover his memories."

"I hope so." Hotch was silent for a minute, then added, "There's one good thing about that threat, though."

"What's that?"

"If the killer's focused on Reid, he may be diverted from hunting his next victim."

Morgan looked back into the room where Spencer was stuffing books into a travel bag. His long hair was hanging in his face as he ungracefully worked around the protrusion of his belly, and Morgan was struck by how vulnerable his awkwardness made him appear. "Yeah, I guess that's one way to look at it. Thanks, Hotch."

Hotch unceremoniously clicked off, and Morgan put away his phone, then went back into the room.

"Okay, kid-two things. One, the DNA report came back. You're all clear."

Spencer audibly exhaled. "Finally. Does Mueller know?"

"He will, as soon as he checks his messages."

"Good. I hope it ruins his day. What's the other thing?"

"We've got a change of plans. We're going to pick up the rest of the BAU team at the airfield in a little while." Morgan noticed Spencer's expression clouded and he absently ran his hand over his belly. Morgan frowned.

"What?"

"Nothing." Spencer sighed and went back to his packing.

"You worried about meeting the team?"

Spencer shook his head, but Morgan could tell from his suddenly closed-in posture that that wasn't the case.

"It's okay, kid. They know you've been cleared of any suspicion. As of now, you're a witness, and-"

"And, they're going to ask me a lot of questions which I won't be able to answer. And..."

"And, what?"

"And, they're going to look at me like I'm a freak, just like everybody else does."

"No, Spencer. These are professionals, they've dealt with far worse things than-" Morgan didn't have to see the way Spencer's eyes narrowed to know that his words were ill-chosen. He felt it as soon as they came out of his mouth. Spencer gave him a sarcastic smile.

"Far worse things than some genetically-mutated aberration with a baby in his belly? Yeah, I imagine so. That's good, that's great, now I feel perfectly normal."

Morgan closed his eyes. "I didn't mean it that way."

"I know. I-"

Morgan watched Spencer fight back the wave of anger that had risen in his throat. It took a few seconds, but the next time he spoke, the bitter tone was gone. "I know you didn't. It's just that, your team is trying to catch a killer and they think I know something, but I don't." He raised his eyes to Morgan's. "I just feel so damn helpless, for myself, for my baby-but also for that lady that died, and I want to help them catch that man, but... What if I really didn't see anything useful? Or, what if I can never remember?" He stared into Morgan's eyes, and for a moment, the agent stared back. He could see the depth of intelligence the boy's dark eyes held, and the courage, as well as the fear. Then, Spencer spoke softly.

"You can't protect me forever, Agent Morgan."

"Look, you saw something, or this creep wouldn't be threatening you. And, you'll remember. We're going to help you do that."

"But, what if he gets to me before your team finds him?"

"Not gonna happen, kid." Morgan went over to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You wait until you meet my team. They're good-the best. We'll find him, and we'll put him away. So, don't worry, okay?"

Spencer broke his gaze and took a deep breath. He nodded.

"'Atta boy. Now, we need to get moving. You about ready?"

Spencer's backpack and the over-filled travel bag were zipped up and ready to go. He glanced around once more and noticed the picture of him and his mother on the dresser. He retrieved it, slid it into his backpack, then nodded. "Yeah, that's everything. Let's go."

"Yes, sir." Morgan grinned at him and picked up the larger bag, then they headed for Mrs. Epstein's office to give her the release form.

* * *

><p>"Knock-knock?" Morgan tapped on the door frame of Epstein's office. She waved them in, took the form he handed her and looked it over. She made a disapproving "hmph" sound before nodding.<p>

"All right, so, you're free to go." She looked at Morgan. "I hope you know what you're doing. I wouldn't want to tangle with the senior Mr. Reid."

Now it was Morgan's turn to "hmph." "Yeah, well. Can't say I'm too worried, seeing as he saw fit to take a nice ocean cruise and didn't even bother to let his pregnant son know about it."

The woman knit her brows. "Ocean cruise? What are you talking about? He just called here."

Morgan had already started toward the door, and he stopped in his tracks and turned back with a frown. "He did? What did he say?"

"I didn't speak to him myself, but Mattie said he was checking on Spencer's whereabouts. She said he confirmed that you were taking him out of our care and, strangely enough, he seemed to be all right with that."

Morgan glanced at Spencer. The worried look had returned to his face, and Morgan felt a tug of concern, himself. "Okay, thanks. I'm going to have a word with Mattie, if that's all right."

"Certainly. Goodbye, Spencer. Do try to cooperate with Agent Morgan."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "I'll try."

* * *

><p>They went to the front desk, where Mattie was singing off-key along with whatever song was coming through a pair of earbuds she had stuck in her ears. She looked up when Morgan stopped to lean on the desk, and pulled one bud away so she could hear.<p>

"Yes?"

"I understand someone calling himself Spencer's father called earlier."

"Uh-huh, William Reid, he called a little while ago."

"May I have a look at the house phone?"

The girl put the telephone in front of Morgan, and he ran through the LED display of the calls record. "Have you taken any other calls since?"

"Just one a couple of minutes ago."

Morgan went back and found the caller number in question, and gestured at it to Spencer. "Recognize that number?"

Spencer shook his head. Morgan took a piece of note paper and jotted down the number. "I'll check with Mueller and see if this is the same one that the guy used earlier. Thanks, young lady. Come on, Spencer, let's get out of here."

They left the reception area and stepped out onto the porch; as Spencer had predicted, a none-too-gentle rain was coming down, and judging by the puddles that had already formed, it had been going on for a while. Morgan got out his phone and called the sheriff, then looked carefully around the area, but he didn't see anything unusual. He turned back to Spencer and said, "It's the same number. Whoever called, it wasn't your dad."

The two exchanged thoughtful looks, then Morgan took out his keys and pointed the fob at Mueller's SUV, unlocking it. He held up a hand, indicating Spencer should stay on the porch, then walked a broad circle around the vehicle, looking for tracks or indications of tampering. He saw nothing, then waved for Spencer to come ahead. He ran through the rain and threw his bags in the backseat.

Now both dripping wet, they got in the car, and Morgan started the engine. "Okay, we're going to get on the highway as fast as possible. Help me keep an eye out, in case somebody starts to follow us."

Spencer nodded, feeling a curious burst of excitement. Somehow, leaving the Home and out in the rain with Morgan, he felt free, and he wasn't afraid anymore. He swiped the raindrops off of his face, pulled the seat belt over and around the swell of his belly, then ran his hands over the bulge that was his baby daughter. _I think we're going to be okay, little one_.

It was strange given the circumstances, but it was the first time that thought had occurred to him since he'd discovered that he was pregnant.

* * *

><p>Neither he nor Morgan saw the black sedan parked a half-mile up the hill overlooking the Home. The man at the wheel put down his binoculars, started the engine, and began negotiating the slippery unpaved road hidden deep within the heavy woods.<p> 


	9. The Team Meets Spencer

**A/N: Woo, almost Halloween! Yay! Hey, guys, look for the Profiler's Choice Awards nomination ballot over at the Chit Chat forum-I've gotten a few nominations, woo-hoo! Very exciting! Check it out.**

**So, in this chapter, the rest of the BAU team gets to meet Spencer. Please review, I love hearing from you even if it's just a quick note!**

* * *

><p>As Morgan prepared to guide the SUV back along the route by which they had come, Spencer spoke up.<p>

"If you take a left here, you can head out the back way and connect with a road that'll take us directly to the airport. It's a little rough, but should be a lot quicker than going back through town."

"Oh, yeah? Okay, thanks, kid." Morgan took Spencer's advice and turned. The path led through the thick woods behind the Home, and began a downward descent. By now, thunder was cracking through the quiet, lightning flashed in the sky, and rain was pounding down at such a pace that the windshield wipers could hardly keep up. Morgan drove expertly and after negotiating some low-hanging limbs, the road ahead appeared to clear up and become a more heavily-traveled avenue.

Then, they came to a low spot. The punishing rain had sluiced down the hill and created a rushing stream across the road.

Morgan slowed, then stopped to assess the situation. "That looks pretty deep."

Spencer nodded worriedly. "Yes, it does. It floods around here all the time. I've heard of cars getting washed away when it's like this-maybe we should go back." He bit his lip and glanced at Morgan, but Morgan shook his head.

"Naw. If we were in a little bitty sedan or something, I'd agree with you, but we should be okay in this monster. Hang on!" Morgan switched to four-wheel drive, revved the engine and hit the water; it splashed heavily onto the window glass and came up over the wheels. Spencer did as Morgan had instructed, grabbing the handle above the passenger side window with both hands. He screwed his eyes tightly closed, clearly braced for disaster. But, Morgan slowly made his way to higher ground, and once across, he grinned at his companion.

"Don't try that at home, kids."

Spencer took a deep breath, then laughed in relief. "Wow, you've got nerves of steel. My dad would never have tried anything like that."

"You have to know your equipment, and I've had a lot of experience driving in foul weather. But, your dad would be right, flood waters are nothing to play around with."

Spencer sniffed. "Yeah, well-he'd be more concerned about messing up the paint job than personal safety."

Morgan stifled a grin. "He'd have a point. Fortunately-this ain't my vehicle." He raised an eyebrow mischievously, and Spencer laughed again, then relinquished his hold on the handle.

They made their way onto a road called "Airport Freeway," which Morgan thought had a long way to go before anyone would seriously consider it a freeway, but it was easy traveling, and he and Spencer both sat back and relaxed for the remainder of the trip.

Neither of them saw the man in the black sedan following at a comfortable distance; when he saw Morgan stop at the water crossing, he halted as well. He watched the big SUV make its way through the high water and cursed. He let his prey get out of sight, then propelled his vehicle forward, determined to stay in pursuit, but at the last minute he lost his nerve and came to a sharp stop at the edge of the fast-running stream. He grit his teeth in consternation, cursed again, and then turned back.

He'd have to catch up with the little freak at a later date.

His thoughts went back to the voice of the girl who'd answered the Home's phone... Mattie, she'd called herself.

Mattie.

He liked her voice.

* * *

><p>Back in Quantico, Hotch went over the sketchy details of the case with the rest of the team. He also made a point of explaining to them about Spencer Reid's pregnancy. "I know some of you have not had an opportunity to get to know a young man with this condition, and it's natural to be curious. But, he's the only possible witness we have at this time, and he's suffering a memory block. We have to get him to trust us, and to do so, we need to be certain we don't make him feel uncomfortable by calling undue attention to his pregnancy. So, no staring and no asking overly familiar questions, everyone got that?" Hotch was directing his warning mostly to Rossi; he knew that he'd grown up in a time when "breeder boys" were even more of an oddity and object of derision than they were in the present day.<p>

Rossi shot him a sneering glance, and he stayed behind after Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia left the conference room. He fixed a reproving stare on his unit chief.

"I do know how to behave myself around people, Aaron. Even pregnant males."

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to heighten your awareness, given the circumstances. I don't want the boy to feel uncomfortable around us. Any of us."

"Don't worry. And, for your information, I knew a fellow in college who had the condition. He became pregnant in his sophomore year and he was virtually forced to drop out. The dean felt he would create too much of a distraction for the other students, plus he didn't want the negative publicity for our school. It was quite devastating for the poor kid."

"Yes, it's extremely unfortunate that there are so few legal statutes in place to protect their rights."

"Mm. Well, anyway, you don't have to worry about me, I hope you know that."

Hotch nodded. "Of course." Just then, Hotch's intercom buzzed and he picked up, listened to the message, then turned back to Rossi.

"There's bad weather in Palmer, but we're cleared to go. Wheels up in twenty."

"I'll let the others know," Rossi said, and he headed off to ready his go bag.

* * *

><p>JJ was gathering her things and Garcia was standing in her office door, watching pensively. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "Hey, JJ?"<p>

"Uh-huh?"

"What do you think it's like, being a pregnant guy?"

JJ paused a moment and looked at the concern on Garcia's face.

"Uh... I'm sure it's pretty difficult, given the way people tend to react, on top of all the normal issues that come with being pregnant. Why?"

"I've just been thinking about it ever since this case came up. That poor kid. I hope you guys go easy on him."

JJ wrinkled her brow. "What do you mean? He's a witness now, not a suspect."

Garcia nodded. "I know. But, think of it-he's six months along, he's got macho-man Morgan ordering him around, and here you guys come, alpha-male, alpha-male, alpha-_female, _and you. He's probably going to be super intimidated-you really think he's going to be able to remember anything?"

"Come on, Pen. Those guys are all professionals. They know he's just a kid. And, I know exactly what it's like to be six months pregnant-male or female, that's not easy. I'll make sure everyone keeps that in mind."

Garcia smiled a little. "Yeah. Well, tell the kid he's got a tech-goddess rooting for him back here in Quantico."

JJ laughed as she slung her bag over her shoulder. "I will-I'm sure he'll appreciate that." She patted her friend on the shoulder as she headed out to meet the plane.

* * *

><p>Morgan and Spencer made it to the airport with plenty of time to spare. They parked and went in to wait for the other BAU agents to arrive; Morgan used the opportunity to make arrangements at the hotel for his team members, then to check in with Sheriff Mueller.<p>

"Have you fucked up my vehicle yet?" the lawman abruptly demanded in lieu of a greeting. Morgan grinned.

"Well, I was afraid it might bog down in the high water I took 'er through, but once the brakes dried out, she seemed to be doing okay. You might want to get a tune-up pretty soon, though, she's hesitating a little on the hills..."

Morgan could imagine the slow burn the sheriff was doing, and he chuckled to himself. "So, anyway, my team's on the way and I guess we'll get with you this afternoon to go over whatever evidence you have."

"Yeah, fine."

Morgan briefly considered being a nice person, then dismissed the notion. "I imagine you'll be pretty much starting your investigation over from scratch now, huh?" he asked innocently.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you put an awful lot of energy into hanging the murder on that poor kid, and now that he's been cleared, well..." Morgan turned to wink at Spencer, who was listening with a delighted grin. He then held the phone away from his ear so Spencer could hear the sheriff's indignant sputtering.

When Mueller was finished defending himself, Morgan said goodbye and hung up, then went to check on the BAU plane's progress. In spite of the bad weather, the jet was still on time and would be allowed to land. Morgan had just bought Spencer and himself a couple of sodas when he saw the jet arrive. He pointed it out to Spencer.

"Here they come."

Spencer looked out the window with interest, then began smoothing his rumpled clothing, wishing he'd taken the time to get a shower and change of clothes back at the Home. He felt enough like a social outcast at the best of times without looking like a forlorn ragamuffin to a team of FBI agents, but he supposed they wouldn't get much past his protruding belly to notice. He ran his fingers through his lank hair and sighed in resignation as the BAU team deplaned.

Hotch led the group inside. He strode up to Morgan and nodded in greeting, then turned a kind look to Spencer and held out his hand. "Spencer Reid? I'm Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU. This is Agent Prentiss, Agent Rossi, and our Communications Liaison, Jennifer Jarreau."

Spencer shook his hand and said, "Hi," hastily glancing at each smiling face in turn. JJ stepped forward and warmly shook his hand.

"Hi, Spencer. It's nice to meet you."

Spencer respectfully tipped his head toward her. "Miss Jarreau."

"Call me JJ, okay? And, this is Emily..."

Prentiss came forward and greeted the boy, noticing that he'd wrapped his arms around himself and stepped back behind Morgan as if attempting to melt out of sight. _So closed in,_ she thought, not that she blamed him. She added, "I hear you've had a tough time of it lately."

Spencer smiled a little and nodded, then added, "Agent Morgan's really helped me a lot, though." He dropped his gaze to the floor then looked up when Rossi stepped closer to him. Rossi smiled encouragingly and in a gentle voice said, "And, we appreciate your willingness to help _us."_

None of the newcomers stared at Spencer or made reference to his pregnancy, and after a moment he seemed to relax, although he still kept his arms crossed over his belly and avoided their eyes.

While JJ and Prentiss chatted with Spencer, Hotch took Morgan aside. "How's he doing?"

"Pretty well, all things considered. I think he's worn out from stress, though. He's going to need a little down time before we interview him."

Hotch gave him a pointed look. "Does he trust you?"

Morgan shrugged. "Not entirely. But, he's gotten more comfortable with me."

Hotch nodded, then took a file out of his case. "All right, then. I want you and Prentiss to work with the boy and see if you can get him to remember any details from the night of Mary Amos' murder. Rossi and I will meet with local law enforcement, and I'll have JJ interface with the victims' families, then she can get with Garcia to see if there're any commonalities between them."

Morgan nodded. "Okay. We can all go back to the Sheriff's department, but if we want the kid to loosen up and talk, I don't think that's the best plan. I'm more inclined to take him and Prentiss to the hotel-I have a suite, so that might be a more conducive environment for getting him to relax and feel comfortable with us. What do you think?"

"Good idea. That'll give him an opportunity to rest as well-he looks exhausted. I reserved a car, so we can split up from here."

"Great."

"Let's get going." Hotch outlined the plan with the rest of the group, and then they headed out.


	10. Another Phone Call

**A/N: Ever so sorry for the wait. I've been Nano'ing! And, boy am I behind. But, I did want to keep this story going in spite of it, so here we are.**

**BTW, the final ballot for the Profiler's Choice Awards is up! I'm super-excited to have been nominated in a few categories, squee! and if you like my stories, I would really appreciate your vote. Go to the Forums, Chit Chat on Author's Corner to find the thread. There are links to a lot of fantastic stories there.**

**Anyway, thank you for reading and please review! **

**Seds**

* * *

><p>Prentiss climbed into the front seat of the SUV, while Morgan threw her go-bag into the rear; Spencer awkwardly hauled himself up and into the back seat.<p>

"Sure you don't want to ride shotgun, Mr. Reid?" Prentiss asked, turning to watch the pregnant young man struggle to buckle up his seat belt. He glanced at her and shook his head.

"No, thanks. I'm fine. And, you can call me Spencer. Trust me, it's not necessary to address me with a deferential title in hopes of bolstering my self-respect, especially since I'm more than several years your junior."

Prentiss scrunched up her face. "I wasn't trying to-wait, are you saying I'm old?"

Spencer's eyes widened. "N-no-I'm so sorry, I was merely stating a fact, not trying to insult you." He sucked in his lower lip as he gave her question further consideration, then added, "Although, I don't see how having attained a particular age could be perceived as an insult in the first place. Merely being born later than someone else isn't an achievement. Besides, I think people should take pride in being clever enough to have survived to whatever age they are, rather than being ashamed of it."

Spencer smiled slightly, and, satisfied that he had explained himself sufficiently, he leaned back and looked placidly out the window. Prentiss turned in her seat and glared accusingly at Morgan.

"You jerk. You should have warned me," she said in a growl-y voice.

Morgan looked at her with an exaggeratedly innocent expression. "About what?"

"About him being a smart-ass."

"Oh, why should _you_ catch a break? I've been in charge of him for almost 24 hours now, _on my own." _

"I can hear you, you know," Spencer piped up from the back seat.

"Sorry, kid; us old-timers just aren't used to being around teen-age geniuses, that's all." Morgan checked on his passenger in the rear-view mirror and Spencer caught his eye, then smiled at him. He grinned back, glad to see that the boy was able to take a little good-natured ribbing after all.

Everyone relaxed after that, and they chatted easily enough on the way to the hotel. Once there, Morgan carried in the bags, then went to the desk and checked himself and Spencer into the suite, and Prentiss into a room down the hall. They got their keys and headed to the elevator, then paused before going up to their respective rooms.

"So, what's the plan?" Prentiss asked.

"Why don't you go drop off your stuff and take a little time to decompress. I want Spencer to rest for at least half an hour before we interview him. I'll give you a call when we're ready."

"Sounds good." Prentiss took her bags and went to her room, and Morgan led Spencer to theirs. He unlocked the door and they went in and looked around.

It was a two-room suite, with the front room furnished as an office/sitting area; the other room was a typical hotel bedroom with two queen-sized beds. Spencer gratefully slipped into the bathroom, and Morgan chuckled as the sound of the kid relieving his bladder came through the thin walls. He heard him wash his hands, then Spencer came out and stood uncertainly by Morgan.

"What now?"

"All right, kid, I want you to rest. Go lie down and take a nap."

Spencer looked toward the bed and pursed his lips. "I think I'm too agitated to sleep."

"Well, just stretch out and relax. Read a book or something."

"Okay."

Morgan watched the boy head to the bed and slip out of his shoes before lying down. He fluffed up the pillows and lay back, and Morgan brought him his backpack.

"Thanks." Spencer perfunctorily looked through it, then set it on the floor by the bed without taking anything out. He folded his hands on his tummy and stared up at the ceiling. Morgan frowned.

"What's wrong? You've got about a million books in there, don't tell me you don't have anything to read."

"I've already read them all."

Morgan raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Of course you have. Well, I have a couple of novels with me, you want to try one?"

"No thanks, I really don't care much for fiction."

"Then, just shut your eyes and see if you can take a nap. I need to go over some stuff before I get Prentiss back in here, so I'll be right over there, on the couch. Okay?"

"Okay."

Morgan took a seat and pulled the case file Hotch had given him out of his bag. He'd just begun reading when Spencer asked, "Agent Morgan?"

"Yes?"

"You like Agent Prentiss a lot, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you liked Agent Prentiss."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Agent Prentiss is strikingly attractive, and the two of you seem to have a comfortable relationship based on mutual respect and admiration for one another. Obviously, she's single, and I assume you are, too." Spencer paused for a moment, and Morgan made a brave attempt to ignore the boy entirely. But, it wasn't working very well, especially when Spencer persisted with his line of questioning.

"You _are_ single, aren't you?"

Morgan rubbed a hand over his face. "Spencer, go to sleep."

"What? It's a simple question."

"It's a nosy question. But, yes, I'm single."

He thought he heard Spencer say "Duh," but he might have been mistaken. He continued in his attempts to ignore him. Then-

"So, are you and Agent Prentiss sleeping together?"

Morgan almost crumpled the paper he held in his hand. Instead, he made a huff of exasperation. "Spencer-in the first place, I don't kiss and tell. In the second place, I'm not going to discuss my private life with you, at least so far as it concerns a fellow agent. But, I will say this-Agent Prentiss and I are just good friends."

"Well, what about Ms. Jarreau? She's very pretty."

"Oh, my God-No, she and her boyfriend just had a baby, and anyway, I don't date people I work with! Now, drop it, will you?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I was just curious."

"Sounds to me like you got a thing for older women," Morgan muttered to himself. He went back to his file, but now that Spencer was prevented from tormenting him further with questions, he could sense the youth's bored restlessness. He glanced over at him; Spencer was still lying on his back, but now he had his knees drawn up and his hands behind his head. Then, he abruptly flipped over onto his side, with his back to Morgan, and he stayed like that for a little while. Morgan tried to concentrate on his reading, but he heard Spencer's annoyed sigh as he turned over again, this time to face him. Morgan looked at him and shook his head.

"Go to sleep, kid."

"I can't! I can't get comfortable, plus, the baby's kicking really hard." Spencer unhappily sat up and tucked his legs under himself, sitting cross-legged as he held one hand on the side of his stomach.

Morgan felt a twinge of concern. All he needed was for the kid to go into labor on his watch. "You okay?"

"Yeah, she's just not settling down." Then, out of nowhere, Spencer laughed. "Whoa! Come here, Agent Morgan, you've got to see this."

Morgan got up and went to sit beside him. "What?"

Spencer pulled his shirt up enough to show Morgan where a tiny foot was making an outward impression in the side of Spencer's belly. Morgan's mouth dropped open.

"Shit! That _is _weird!" He looked at Spencer's delighted expression and asked, "What's that feel like?"

"It used to be like... the flap of a butterfly's wing. Now, it's like Alien's inside there, trying to scratch its way out. Here-" Spencer impulsively took Morgan's hand and laid it over the bulge. "Feel."

Morgan was startled, first by Spencer's firm hand on his, then by the tiny creature's movements under his palm. He stared into Spencer's eyes, and for a moment, they shared a sense of absolute wonder. Then, Morgan laughed, as well; he knew he wouldn't have been able to sleep either, if he'd had something like that punching him from the inside. He put his head down closer to Spencer's stomach and said softly, "Hey, baby girl, shh. Give your daddy a break, he needs a nap."

Almost magically, the movements ceased and the baby settled down.

Spencer looked at Morgan, impressed. "Wow, she must like the sound of your voice, it seems to be soothing her."

"Well, I have that effect on women. Now, why don't you give that nap another try?"

"All right." Spencer lay down again, and Morgan pulled the sheet over him.

"Need more pillows?"

"Yeah."

Morgan took two from the other bed and Spencer tucked one at his back and wrapped himself around the other as if it were a teddy bear. Morgan grinned. "Comfy now?"

"Uh-huh. Thank you. Oh, and thanks for being excited about feeling the baby move. No one at the Home ever thought it was very interesting-they're around it all the time, I guess, and it's no big deal to them. And, when I told my dad about it, all he said was, 'Don't get attached, Spencer.'" He looked up at Morgan. "It's nice to have someone else recognize how amazing it is."

Morgan looked down at him and nodded. "Sure, kid. It _is_ amazing. Now, close your eyes and get some rest." He reached out and ruffled the kid's hair before it occurred to him that that might be an inappropriate gesture for a federal agent to give to a witness in protective custody, but it made Spencer smile.

"Yes, sir," he said, and closed his eyes. Morgan watched as his whole body suddenly went limp. In a moment he was breathing evenly, and Morgan couldn't help but chuckle, remembering how easily sleep used to come to him, too, when he was a teen-aged boy.

* * *

><p>A half hour later, Morgan had caught up on the details of the case and Spencer was still breathing the slow, even breaths of sleep. Morgan hated to wake him, but knew they needed to get going. He was about to call Prentiss when a soft knock came at the door.<p>

He looked through the peep hole and saw Prentiss herself standing there. He let her in. "Hey, I was just about to call you." He noted the grim look on her face.

"A woman's been reported missing. She works at the Sanders Home, the one where Spencer's been a resident."

"Damn it."

"Yeah. Her shift was over at one o'clock and she was supposed to meet her boyfriend right after, but she never showed up. Her car's still at her work, and she's nowhere to be found. No one saw anything, though."

"All right, let's see if we can get anything out of the kid. Hey, Spencer-okay, buddy, it's time to wake up." Morgan went and gently shook Spencer's shoulder. He sleepily sat up and looked around, disoriented.

"Time is it?"

"It's four-thirty in the afternoon. Agent Prentiss is here, and we need to go over what happened the night you discovered Mary Amos by the river."

"'k." Spencer got up and padded off to the bathroom. When he emerged, he looked brighter. He sat down on the couch, and Morgan sat in the chair beside him, Prentiss sat next to him and spoke in a gentle voice. It was her job to navigate her way through Spencer's internal defense system without unduly disturbing him, and it was delicate work.

"All right. Spencer, just relax. I want to take you back to that night. You said in your statement that you were walking along the road by the river when you heard screaming. What happened next?"

"I followed the sound; I saw her lying on the ground and ran down to her."

"Now, close your eyes. Think back. It was nighttime-how were you able to see her?"

"The moon. The moon was shining down on her."

"Okay. So, you hurried down to her. Did you look around? Did you see or hear anything as you went?"

"No-I could just tell she was hurt, and I wanted to find out what was wrong."

"So, when you came up to her-was she alone?"

"Yes."

"Spencer, take a deep breath. Think of what you heard, what you saw, what you smelled at that moment. Were you hot? Cold?"

"I was... hot. From walking. I felt sweaty."

"Very good. Now, think of the moment when you stopped beside Mary. Other than her situation, did anything strike you as unusual? How did you feel? What was going through your mind?"

"I was... scared. For her. That was it, that's all I remember feeling."

"Nothing else?"

"No, I just knew that I needed to help her."

"What did you hear?"

"She was wheezing, trying to talk. Other than that, there was nothing, it was very still by the water."

"All right. So, Mary Amos was alive when you got to her. She was speaking. Go back there, Spencer. Listen. You heard nothing else?"

"I... Wait. There was something... A car door. A car door creaked."

"That's good, Spencer. Could you tell which direction the sound came from?"

"It was... above me."

"Above you?"

"Yes. On the bridge."

"Excellent. What did you do when you heard the sound of a car door creaking?"

"I... looked up."

Prentiss took a deep breath. Her voice was now controlled, but urgent. "What did you see when you looked up?"

"There was... a car. Parked on the bridge. It was a... dark colored sedan, black or maybe dark blue."

"Who opened the door, Spencer?"

"A man. There was a man standing by the car. Opening the door."

"What did he look like?"

"He... was too far away to make out his features. He had on a hooded jacket, and the moon was behind him."

"Did he see you?"

Spencer nodded slowly. "Yes... Yes, he looked at me. Then he got in the car." His breath was coming rapidly now; Prentiss knew his blood pressure was up, not good for someone in his condition. She glanced at Morgan, indicating he should step in, hoping the trust established between the two of them would help keep the boy anchored.

"Spencer." Morgan said. "What about the car? Could you tell what make it was? Was there anything unusual about it? A bumper sticker, a broken headlight, anything like that?"

"The... license plate. I saw the license plate."

Morgan fought down excitement. "Could you recognize the state? Was it a Maryland plate?"

"Yes... 8AK-D13."

Prentiss looked at Morgan in surprise. Morgan grabbed a pen and wrote down the number, a triumphant grin on his face.

Prentiss continued. "What happened after the man got in the car?"

"He... drove away. To the other side of the bridge. By then, I was kneeling next to the woman on the ground, trying to help her."

"All right," Morgan said. "That's good, Spencer, excellent job."

Prentiss asked, "Was there anything else?"

Spencer shook his head. "No... I didn't see anything else."

"Okay. That's very good. We're done."

Spencer came out of his reverie and looked from one to the other. "Wow. I'd completely blanked out on the part about the car. How did you do that?" he asked wonderingly.

"It's what we do." Prentiss have him a warm smile and patted his shoulder. "You did _great. _Now, we have to call Garcia and get her to look up that plate."

"I'm on it." Morgan stood up and went to the other room to make the call. Prentiss looked back at Spencer with an uncertain expression.

"You were really able to remember the license number? That's highly unusual."

Spencer shrugged. "Now that you helped me overcome the block, I can see it plainly, like it's right in front of me. You see, I have an eidetic memory. I can recall everything I read or see with great detail and precision."

Prentiss nodded, impressed. "Wow. You must be breezing through school."

A shadow crossed Spencer's face, but he just shrugged. "Yeah."

Morgan came back looking focused. "That license was registered to a local dude named Hugh Nicholson. I've got Garcia on his trail, and she's going to contact Hotch. We need to head over to the Sheriff's Department and meet up with the rest of the team. By the time we get there, Garcia'll have Nicholson's life dissected for us on a tray."

"What about me?" Spencer looked worriedly from Morgan to Prentiss. "You're done with me now, right? Where will I go?"

"You're still in protective custody due to the threat on your life. You're staying with us," Prentiss said kindly. Morgan nodded in agreement.

The worry fell from Spencer's face and he smiled. "Good. This is really fascinating, watching you work. You're both awesome."

"Our whole team's awesome," Morgan said with a grin. "Now, let's go, we don't have time to waste."

Spencer picked up on the urgency in his voice and asked, "Is something wrong? What's happened?"

"A local woman is missing," Prentiss said. She thought it would be better not to mention the woman's identity at that moment. Spencer had just been through an emotionally demanding experience, and she didn't want to stress him out further.

"Oh, no." The look on his face at hearing that much of the news confirmed her concerns.

They were about to gather their things when the hotel room phone rang. Morgan reached for it, saying, "Who the hell could that be?" He picked it up. "Morgan here."

"Hello-this is William Reid, Spencer's father. Is he there?"

Morgan frowned. "Mr. Reid. We've been hoping to hear from you. Where are you?"

"I'm trying to get there. I've had quite a time tracking you down, I've called every hotel in town. It's a good thing there's only three. May I speak to my son?"

"Uh-yeah." He held his hand over the speaker and turned to Spencer. "Says he's your dad. But-if he had read my emails, he'd have my cell. So... It could be the man who's been threatening you."

Spencer frowned, too. "What do I say?"

"Just say, 'Hello.' If it's not your dad, let me and Prentiss listen."

Spencer nodded and took the phone. "Hello?"

The formerly calm voice on the phone turned nasty. "Listen, you disgusting little freak. I know you're telling them everything. I know they're going to try to put me away. But, guess what-nobody's going to stop me. I've got one of your favorite little pals right here with me now-you hear? Listen to her. Mad-dieee-say something, Maddie." Spencer could hear some sort of movement, then a gasp. Then, a woman's voice, crying, and a strangled _"Help me!" _

"Hear her? I'm having a lot of fun with her. I... like her. And, it's your fault I found her, you little bastard. You led me to her."

Spencer's heart rate was speeding and his breath was coming fast. "He's got Maddie," he whispered. Morgan took the phone.

"Where are you?" he asked.

All three were listening intently, and they could hear screaming in the background. Morgan continued. "What do you want? Talk to me. Leave the girl alone-I'll be happy to talk to you all you want. Just-"

The caller clicked off.

Morgan stared at the phone in his hand and he cursed.

"What did he say?" Prentiss asked.

"Nothing, he hung up."

"That wasn't my father," Spencer said in a dazed voice.

"No, kid, it wasn't. Look, let's get moving. That girl doesn't have a lot of time. I'm going to tell the front desk where we are."

"Why?" Spencer asked in horror.

"Because, now he's taunting us, and I want him to stay in contact. Let's go."

The three gathered their things and headed out to meet up with the rest of the team.


	11. Hot

**Hello! Dang, I'm sorry to take so long with this update. I've been sick... Anyway, hope everyone had a nice holiday. This chapter will have some violence and rough language. Hope you enjoy, please review!**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>When Morgan, Prentiss, and Spencer walked out of the hotel, they found that the rain had stopped. A hint of late afternoon sun was forcing its way through the clouds, bringing with it an oppressive layer of heat. The air was heavy, and it felt like an oven had been left on when they opened the doors of the SUV. Once Spencer had settled in the backseat, Morgan glanced back and saw him wipe sweat from his brow. He quickly cranked up the AC and caught Spencer's eye in the rearview mirror. "It'll cool down here in a minute, kid."

"Thanks. I'm usually cold, if anything, but with the pregnancy... The heat really gets to me." He shifted uncomfortably, and Prentiss turned to give him an encouraging smile.

"My friend, JJ, said the same thing when she was expecting. A cold drink might help, do you want us to stop and get you something?"

"No, I'm fine, really. The air conditioning's helping a lot."

They made their way to the Sheriff's Department, and as they pulled up, they noticed a van with an air conditioning repair company's logo parked at the rear entrance, and the sight of it made Morgan groan.

"Uh-oh. A/C problems. Looks like it might be hot times in the old jail house tonight."

Emily nodded. "We'll definitely have to get you something cold to drink, Spencer. You need to stay hydrated anyway, and it might help you avoid getting overheated."

"Yeah, and don't be afraid to speak up if it gets too hot in there. I'll take you outside if necessary-don't want you fainting or something." The idea of him and Emily fussing over the pregnant teen struck Morgan as more than a little weird, but something about Spencer seemed to send them both into protective-parent mode. Spencer merely shrugged, nodded his agreement, and followed them up the steps into the entryway of the building.

JJ and Hotch were standing inside waiting for them. They greeted each other, then they all headed off to the Sheriff's office. The air became progressively warmer as they walked, but not to the point of being uncomfortable. They reached the office, and were directed to a conference room down the hall, where they found the sheriff and his deputy sitting at a round table along with Rossi. They were intently gazing at a laptop positioned in the center, and Morgan could hear Garcia's voice coming through the speakers.

Still in the hallway, Spencer hesitated and looked questioningly at Morgan. He didn't want to end up sitting in a jail cell again, even if it was for his own protection, but he couldn't imagine being allowed to sit in with the team. He hoped they'd have a secure place where he could sneak in a little more of a nap-he was still very tired.

"Where do _I_ go?" he asked.

Morgan pointed into the conference room. "In here, with me."

"But, you're having an official meeting, I shouldn't be privy to that."

"It's okay, it's not like we're discussing secret operations or anything. Besides, we might trigger another memory for you, and that could be helpful." Noting Spencer's doubtful expression, Morgan put a hand on his shoulder and added, "Anyway, I'm not letting you out of my sight, kiddo. Not even in the Sheriff's super-secure state-of-the-art detention facility." He cast a scornful look at Mueller, who gave him a sneer in return.

Hotch indicated that everyone should take a seat, and then said, "All right. Garcia, what do you have?"

"Wait a minute! Is the baby-boy-who's-having-a-baby-girl there? I want to meet him!"

Spencer blinked, and Morgan smiled. "Uh-Spencer, this is Penelope Garcia, our tech analyst. She's been dying to meet you. Hold on, Pen, he's coming on camera now." He stood and turned the laptop to face Spencer, and the youth leaned forward, then pulled back, startled, as a high-pitched squeal came through the computer speakers.

"Spencer! Hi! Hi, it's me, Penelope!" The blonde tech-goddess waved enthusiastically, and Spencer stared at the striking visage before him, then raised his hand and said, "Uh, hello."

"How are you feeling, sweetie?"

"I'm all right."

"Has the chocolate god been taking good care of you?"

Spencer cast a bewildered look at Morgan. "Uh-chocolate... _god...?_" Morgan rolled his eyes, and Garcia gestured at him dismissively.

"Morgan, has Morgan taken good care of you?"

"Y-yes, he's been very nice."

"Excellent! Now, let me meet that baby."

Spencer frowned. "Um... she's not here yet."

"I know that, silly! I want to see your baby bump!"

"Oh."

Morgan, who was making no effort to hide his amusement, indicated that Spencer should stand up, and he helped him move so that the maximum amount of his rounded tummy was visible to the lady back in Quantico.

"Ooo, you poor little angel, are you sure you're only six months along? You look like you're going to pop!"

"I'm actually closer to seven months; twenty-seven weeks and three days, as a matter of fact. Thanks for noticing," Spencer said dryly, running a hand over the expanse of his belly.

Sheriff Mueller was beginning to look as if he were about to pop, himself. "Can we please get down to business?" he asked plaintively.

"Good idea," Hotch growled. "Now-Garcia, what do you have on Hugh Nicholson?" Everyone adjusted their chairs so they were gathered around the computer screen, and Garcia's voice took on a business-like quality.

"I've sent his address to Sheriff Mueller and he's in the process of getting a warrant to search Nicholson's home, right, Sheriff?"

"Yeah, and there's a BOLO out for his car."

"What have you found out about Nicholson's background?" Hotch continued.

"Well, he's twenty-three years old, and would appear to be an amazingly dull fellow-no priors, no arrest record, nothing-but, I'm finding evidence of a psychiatric disorder, which he's apparently received treatment for in the past, but I'm not finding anything recent, so that suggests he's been off his meds for at least a couple of years."

"What does he do for a living?"

"At the moment, nada. His mom passed away about a year ago, and left him quite a bit of cash, plus the house he grew up in. I guess he went for early retirement. But, he used to do maintenance for the Palmer ISD."

Prentiss nodded. "His mother's passing could have been the trigger that set him off. What do we know about her?"

"Well, that's where things get murky. I'm having trouble getting anything on her-it's like she was off the grid. But, don't worry kids, I have not yet begun to dig."

"So, what about the victims? Anything in common among them?" Morgan asked.

"All young, white, and single. But, more important-they were all working for the government in one way or another."

"Excuse me." Spencer's voice was small but concerned. "I'm sorry, but what good does any of this do Maddie? Shouldn't you all be out there looking for her?"

"The local law enforcement officers are on it. Our job is to try to create a profile of the suspect so that we can identify behavior that may lead them to him more quickly. I know it may seem beside the point-but it does work." JJ smiled kindly at Spencer, then frowned. "Are you all right, Spence? You look pale."

Morgan had been so engrossed in the case that he'd forgotten to keep an eye on the kid's condition. He looked at him hastily, and saw that his face was glistening with sweat. It was close and warm in the conference room; Morgan tipped his head toward Mueller.

"It's hot in here-can you turn up the air?"

"One of the units is out, we've got a repairman here now."

Morgan shot him a look. "Well, can you get a fan in here at least? The kid's pretty uncomfortable."

"We don't have any extras. Budget cuts, you know." Mueller said it with more satisfaction than regret, and Morgan fought down an urge to spout off to him. Instead, he just said, "Do you need to step outside, Spencer?"

Spencer shook his head and swiped his sleeve over his brow. "No, no, I'm okay. But, I do need to go to the bathroom. Where is it?"

"To the right, just down the hall," Rossi answered. He cast a glance at Morgan. "Should I go with him?"

Spencer gave him an indignant frown. "I can manage on my own, thank you." He then slipped out of the room. Morgan watched him go, then stood up.

"Where's the break room? I want to get the kid a cold drink."

"First door on the left," Mueller said sourly. "We don't have anything but water, though."

"Better than nothing." Morgan strode out and took a glance down the hall. He resolved that if Spencer wasn't in the conference room by the time he got back with the glass of water, he'd risk embarrassing him and check on him in the restroom.

He found a paper cup, and to his amazement, a couple of half-filled ice trays. He put a few cubes in the cup, added water, and grabbed a paper towel, then went back to the conference room. He looked in and saw Spencer still wasn't there, so he veered off and headed down the hall.

* * *

><p>Spencer went down the hall and found the bathroom; as was typical in a lot of old government buildings, the heavy oak door had a translucent glass window with the word "Men" stenciled on it. He swung it open and looked around. It was a three-stall room with a pair of urinals on the inside wall, and a sink with a mirror across from the door. Spencer made use of the urinal, zipped up, and went to the sink to wash his hands. He looked up into the mirror when a man wearing a blue work shirt came in carrying a ladder. The shirt had the same logo as the van outside. Spencer smiled.<p>

"Wow, good thing you're here. It's pretty hot in that conference room."

The man set up the ladder under a vent, then stood between Spencer and the door and gave him a baleful look. "Gonna be pretty hot in here for you, too, you little freak."

"Wh-what?" Spencer felt a chill flash through him. He turned and stared at the man's face, and now the room felt wavy and, suddenly, he was back by the river, back in that night when he'd discovered a dying woman lying beside the water. _I heard a car door open, I saw a man... I couldn't make out his face, it was too dark... No, wait a minute-the car's overhead light, it shone, it shone on his face, just for a second, only a second, but... Oh, God... It was _this_ face, this is Nicholson, he killed Mary Amos, and..._

Spencer's split-second realization ended when the man he now knew as Nicholson reached into a pocket and pulled out a knife. He held it up and advanced toward Spencer; Spencer backed toward the row of stalls. Nicholson spoke in a low raspy voice.

_"Freak._ Look at you-disgusting. Unnatural. Your kind shouldn't even be allowed to live. Ought to be stamped out, like a parasite. Leave it to the government to make a mess and not clean it up. Yeah, all the government's fault, just like everything else..."

If Spencer had been able to analyze the situation in a cerebral way, he would have wondered why he wasn't afraid. Physically, every nerve in his body was quivering, but it wasn't from fear. Even with the glint of the knife taking his full attention, he felt nothing but cold resolve. He had to protect his baby, and he knew he would do it, even if he died trying. Without thinking, he narrowed his eyes and put his hands up in a "halt" gesture. His voice shook, but he spoke firmly. "Get back. We're in a sheriff's department, for God's sake-you'll never get away with this."

Nicholson gave him a sick grin. "Sure I will. When I'm done with you, I'll just go up through the A/C shaft and out to the roof. They don't even have cameras up there! It'll be easy."

"Leave me alone," Spencer said evenly as he continued to back. "I never did anything to you." His mind was rushing, coldly calculating. He knew he needed to distract the man so he could get past him. All he had to do was get to the door... The man must have seen his gaze and he chuckled.

"That's where you're wrong, freak. You told them who I am, now the cops are trying to track me down and put a stop to my mission. You even brought in the goddamn Feds. For that, you're going to pay. You're not getting out of here on your own two feet, boy. Don't think that you are." He leaned to the side and flipped a latch on the entry door, locking them in, then he began to advance again.

Spencer shook his head. "You're not going to hurt me." It came out softly, almost to himself. Then, he threw himself into one of the stalls and pulled the door shut behind him. He fumbled with the lock, but it was a bit off-kilter and his fingers were shaking so badly that he wasn't able to throw the bolt before Nicholson grabbed a hold of the door and gave it a good yank, pulling it open toward himself.

He laughed again. "Now, this is funny. Look at you in there, trapped like a rat. You're making it too easy for me! Come on, boy, get wise, you're not getting out of here alive, how many times do I have t-"

Nicholson's comments were cut short when Spencer bashed him in the face with the lid from the toilet tank.

"God damn it! You little bastard!" Nicholson reeled back, cursing, and held his blood-spewing nose with one hand, while managing to still grip his knife with the other. Spencer lunged back at him with the heavy ceramic lid and the man hastily stumbled even further backwards. Spencer threw it at him, and it landed on his foot, making him howl with pain.

Spencer was vaguely aware that he was screaming. He ran toward the door, and his hands were only a few inches from throwing open the latch, when Nicholson grabbed him in a brutal grip and pulled him away, then viciously slammed him, face-first, into the wall by the sink. He dropped to his knees. He felt a sharp blow to his side, and realized Nicholson had kicked him. Winded, Spencer supported himself on all fours and tried to crawl under the sink to afford him at least some protection from further assault, but Nicholson was beside him, and Spencer could feel his hot breath against his ear. The man growled, "I told you I'd cut that brat out of you, right in front of your eyes. Well-here we go." He raised the knife and Spencer used every ounce of strength he had left to come up and butt his shoulder, hard, into the man's chin, knocking him backward. Spencer struggled to get to his feet and was fighting off a round of vertigo, when he heard Morgan's voice on the other side of the door, rattling it as he found it locked.

"Spencer! What the hell's going on in there, open the door!"

"He's in here, Morgan! Nicholson! Be careful!"

"Oh, hell, no-" Morgan had already pulled his gun and he now used the handle to break out the glass window pane. It shattered, and he reached in to flip open the lock, but Nicholson was at the side of the door in an instant, and he slashed the back of Morgan's hand with the blade of his knife.

_"Shit!_ Motherf-" The pain made Morgan fluidly step back and apply his foot in a well-aimed blow to the door; it made a cracking sound as it swung open, and Morgan crashed in, yelling for back-up. He gave the room a visual sweep, put himself between Spencer and his assailant, then trained his weapon on Nicholson.

"Drop the knife. _Now."_

Nicholson had a wild-eyed look on his bloodied face; he looked around, clearly intent on running, but Morgan was by the door. "I said, drop it!" Even then, Nicholson appeared determined to play chicken with the armed man, but at that moment, Rossi, Hotch and Mueller came rushing in, followed closely by Prentiss, the deputy, and JJ. Nicholson stared blankly at them, suddenly appearing as if a switch had been flipped in his brain to shut him down. Hotch strode up and wordlessly took the knife from him; Rossi wrestled him down and cuffed him.

As soon as Nicholson was on his feet again, Mueller and the deputy hauled him off to a holding cell.

Morgan holstered his gun, and nodded at his team mates. He turned to check on Spencer, but found that the kid was on his back, lying on the floor of the restroom, with Prentiss kneeling next to him, speaking softly. He rushed to join them.

"What's wrong? Is he wounded?"

"He's... bleeding. But, I don't think it's from a wound," Prentiss said worriedly.

Morgan saw the dark stain spreading between Spencer's legs. The kid was shakily panting, holding his stomach, and his face was contorted in pain. Morgan dropped down and knelt next to him.

"Spencer, kid-what's wrong? What's happening?"

"The baby..." he gasped. "I think... I think she's coming."

"Oh, no-"

"Too soon, Morgan. 'S too soon..." He suddenly cried out and curled up, clutching his belly.

"Get an ambulance," Morgan barked as he took off his jacket and rolled it into a makeshift pillow to put under Spencer's head. "Hurry!"

JJ was already on it.


	12. Blood

**Well, Happy New Year, all my lovely readers! Thank you so much for your support this last year, it means more to me than you can know. I hope you all have a wonderful 2012!**

**Love,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>Prentiss was still kneeling next to Spencer where he lay curled up on the floor, clutching his belly in pain. When Morgan came over, she stood up and motioned for Morgan to step aside with her so she could speak to him privately. "Spencer told me that Nicholson threw him against the wall and kicked him, low on the side of his belly. I'll bet that's what brought on labor."<p>

Morgan had to clamp his teeth together and force himself to breathe evenly in order to prevent himself from running off to find Nicholson and beat him to a bloody pulp. "That sick piece of crap. I hope they fry his ass."

"I know."

Just then, Spencer went into another contraction. Morgan eased himself down to sit on the floor next to him. He took the boy's left hand in his good one, and gave it a firm squeeze, hoping that would distract Spencer from the paroxysm of pain he was enduring. "It's going to be okay, kid. Don't worry, hear me?"

The spasm passed; Spencer lay back on his back and his contorted features relaxed slightly. "Oh, God, Morgan. Something's really wrong inside me. I'm... I'm scared."

"Sure you are, that's normal. And, I know it hurts, but contractions are supposed to hurt-"

Spencer shook his head. "Not like this. I saw a guy go into labor at the home, and it wasn't like this at all. What I just felt... That was worse than any normal early contraction..." He raised his eyes to Morgan's and whispered, "I think Nicholson hurt the baby."

Morgan knew he had to keep calm, be the voice of reason for Spencer. "No, listen kid, she's okay. Nature made it real secure inside there for babies, it takes a lot to do any real damage. Now, just remember, I'm here, and I'm going to stay right here. I'm not going anywhere. So, just squeeze my hand when it hurts, and-"

"But, it's too soon! Mortality statistics among male birth-givers show that premature labor results in an almost sixty-eight per cent increase in the death of both the parent and the fetus. In those cases where the child survives, there's a fifty-four per cent chance that the male birth-giver will expire post-natally due to extreme blood loss, and, God-if I die, she won't have anyone-"

"Spencer, shh. Don't think about the statistics, just concentrate on staying strong." Morgan clasped his other hand around Spencer's, and the boy stared at the dripping wound left by Nicholson's blade.

"He did that to you?"

"Aw, this is nothing. Just a scratch. I've had worse shaving." Morgan smiled down reassuringly. Just then, they heard the sound of an ambulance siren shrieking closer and closer. "Ah, now-hear that? We're going to get you to a hospital, and everything'll be just fine. So, relax, okay? Stay calm. Breathe. You're going to be all right, and your baby girl will be, too."

"I-I need to get up, I-"

"No, now, just stay right there, the EMTs will take care of you-"

"No, I... I feel the baby turning-I need to move-Oh, God!" Spencer tried to stifle a scream, but the wrenching pain inside him was too powerful, too startling, to take it silently. He curled up again, clasping his arms around his belly, trying to discern if the fiery pain was coming from his stomach, his back, or somewhere lower, but he couldn't tell-all he knew was that it was as if a knife had been plunged inside him and was being scraped around among all his organs.

Morgan watched helplessly as the boy looked close to losing consciousness. He glanced down and saw that the blood soaking Spencer's jeans had spread out from under him onto the floor. "Jesus, what's keeping those EMTs?" he hissed to Prentiss.

"I'll go make sure they know where to go," she said briskly, and she dashed outside to flag them down. In a moment, the emergency team came in with their equipment, and they carefully worked together to get Spencer off the floor and onto a gurney, but lifting him still brought about a groan of pain from somewhere deep inside the boy's being. They couldn't worry about that, though, and they efficiently whisked him away to the ambulance, double-time.

Morgan trotted along beside them and once the boy was inside, he made to get in with him.

"I'm sorry sir, we can't have you back here."

"Oh, yeah? Listen, I'm a federal agent, and this boy is still in my custody. He's not leaving my sight, you understand?" Morgan flashed his badge, and the young EMT with a name tag that read, "Lopez," nodded.

"Okay, sir, whatever you say. Let's go."

Once they were on the way, Lopez set up a monitor on Spencer's stomach for the baby, and then injected him with a syringe.

"What's that?" Morgan asked.

"It's a tocolytic medication, meant to slow down the contractions. If we're lucky, we can stop them until we get him to the hospital."

"Mm." Morgan nodded, then looked at Spencer's wan face and smiled. "Hear that, kid? She's going to stay put until we can get you to the ER."

Spencer nodded back; it was a mere weak bob of the head, but Morgan felt encouraged. At least he hadn't passed out. Lopez was adding more monitors-blood pressure and heart rate-and then he gave him oxygen. Lopez checked each sign and made notes on a chart. Morgan moved away from Spencer, trying to get out of his earshot.

"How's he doing?" Morgan asked quietly.

Lopez paused a moment, not sure of protocol, but he said softly, "He's very weak. He's lost a lot of blood. But, the baby has a strong heartbeat so far. We should be able to save at least one of them."

_"One?"_ Morgan hissed. "That's not good enough."

"Look man, I'm sorry, but I can't do anything for him here. If he hangs in until they can get him on the table, he may be all right. But-"

"Morgan." Spencer's weak voice summoned the worried agent. He went back to his post beside Spencer.

"Don't talk, Spencer. Just rest, take it easy."

"No, listen to me-if I don't make it-"

"Hey, you're going to be fine-"

"Yeah, but-if I _don't_ make it-please, make sure she gets a good home. Not some horrible foster home where they won't care about her. Please, Morgan, promise. Promise me."

"I... yeah, of course. I promise."

"And... I guess it won't matter... but... I wanted to name her Sophie. It means 'wisdom.'"

"Sophie... Okay, kid. I'll make sure of that, too. But, you're not going anywhere, you know that, right?" Morgan took his hand again. "You've fought too hard for your baby girl to leave her now. So, stop thinking like that, okay?"

Spencer gave his hand a weak squeeze and smiled. "Yeah. Well... I wouldn't get to keep her, anyway. I just..." His voice trailed off and a monitor beeped frantically then settled into flatline.

"Spencer? _Spencer?_ Oh, my God-"

"He's crashing! Move, sir." Lopez and the other EMT quickly went into action and Morgan got out of the way. He jabbed at a tear as it rolled down his cheek and found himself doing something he hadn't done in many, many years-he said a prayer. He watched the pair of emergency techs work on the still body, and, somehow, heard himself say the word out loud.

_"Please."_

Suddenly, the monitor beeped again, and the steady beat of a heart was again shown flashing in green lights across the screen.

"Got him back," Lopez said triumphantly.

Morgan breathed a sigh of relief, and then the ambulance made a sharp turn into the ER parking zone, and a surgical team met them as they took Spencer from the vehicle.

* * *

><p>Morgan dully stared at the back of his hand. Someone had taken the time to throw him a roll of gauze as Spencer was being wheeled into the OR, and he had absently wrapped it around the bloody gash to staunch the dribble of blood, but it was thoroughly saturated by now. He kept flashing on the pool of blood left on the tile floor when they'd picked up Spencer at the sheriff's department bathroom, a thick reddish-black stain... The life-essence of a teenage boy, left behind to be mopped and bleached by some jail-house cleaning lady, who'd probably seen similar sights before.<p>

Morgan sighed, and Prentiss put an arm around him. Technically, their work was done-the unsub had been apprehended, and the kidnapped girl, Maddie, had been found, battered but alive, tied up in the back of the A/C repair truck; JJ and Rossi had gone to interview her. The police had tracked down Nicholson's car, and had found plenty of evidence linking him to Mary Amos and the two other murdered women, so there was no worry that Nicholson might wangle his way out of multiple murder convictions.

And, with him in custody, there was no further threat from him to Spencer's life. But, Morgan had reminded Hotch that, since Spencer was a minor, he was still responsible for the teen's care. So, until they could figure out who to hand him off to, Morgan intended to stay with him. Couldn't be persuaded otherwise, as a matter of fact. There was no way he would leave Spencer to wake up, disoriented and alone, in a county hospital room.

That was assuming he survived the surgery.

It had been almost two hours since a kind nurse had come out to inform Morgan, Prentiss and Hotch that the baby had been successfully delivered. As expected, her lungs were underdeveloped, and they had her in the neo-natal ICU, but she was otherwise healthy and had a good chance. Morgan had called to let Garcia know, and she was ecstatic; but, she'd asked the same question Morgan had asked the nurse after hearing the good news.

"What about Spencer?" After sighs of relief and happy smiles had been exchanged between the team members, the question hung heavily in the air. The nurse's cheery expression had clouded.

"They're having trouble finding the source of the bleeding. Apparently, the blow to his stomach caused more damage than we initially thought. He's stable, and they're giving him a transfusion right now, but... Time will tell." She'd watched Morgan's jaw tighten, and had smiled somberly. "I'll let you know the moment anything changes. Promise." She'd turned and headed back to the OR and Morgan had jammed his fist into the palm of his wounded hand, glad for the surge of pain.

Which had caused Hotch to say, "Morgan," in that quiet, cautioning voice.

"It's not fair!" Morgan had answered. "The kid hasn't done a single thing wrong, not from the beginning of all this. He was raped, Hotch! But, he steps up like a man, does everything to protect a child he didn't ask for, and now, he might die... All because of some psychotic murderous bastard! And, his goddamned father is nowhere in sight. It makes me sick."

"He's made it this far, Derek." Prentiss had squeezed his shoulder. "And, he's had you by his side through all of this trauma. Whatever happens, you did everything possible-"

"No, I let him go off to use the damn men's room by himself. This is _my_ fault."

"Morgan, that's nonsense. Do not blame yourself," Hotch had said sharply. "You can't control every moment of every day. I would think you'd have learned that by now."

"He just wanted to be a daddy to his baby girl," Morgan had said, his voice thick with holding back tears. "I'll never forgive myself if he doesn't make it."

Now, the three were silently sitting next to each other, the tension raw and palpable. Every move anyone made caused Morgan to flinch and Prentiss to look up from her magazine, but the minutes dragged by with no word about Spencer.

Finally, the OR door opened. The man Morgan had learned was the head surgeon came striding through, a grim expression on his face. Prentiss and Hotch braced themselves. It was obvious that Morgan would need more than a little team support if the news was bad.

Morgan felt time slow down. He could hear his own breathing as the man walked up to him and addressed him directly.

"Are you Agent Morgan?"

Morgan stood up and squared his shoulders. "Yes."

The man's stern features relaxed into a pleased smile. "He made it."

"Wh-what?" Morgan asked, feeling a rush of joy.

"It was touch and go for a while, and we almost lost him a second time. But, we were able to locate the source of the hemorrhage, and he's going to be just fine. Good thing he's young or I doubt we'd have been so lucky." Prentiss and Morgan grabbed each other in grateful relief and Hotch leaned back in his chair and took a moment to let the tension flow out of him.

"Oh, my God, that's so great. I'm going to go call JJ and Rossi." Prentiss went off to find a place where there was cell phone reception and Morgan sank back into his chair.

"Thanks, Doc. When can we see him?"

"He's in recovery now, and we'll send him up to a room in about an hour. We'll let you know, and you can meet him up there."

The surgeon nodded to both men, then left. Hotch sighed.

"Well. Thank goodness."

"I have to call Garcia." Morgan pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and prepared to stand up and go out of the ER waiting room, but Hotch put a hand on his arm.

"Just a minute."

Morgan sat back down. "Yeah?"

"I can see that you've developed an attachment to the boy. I understand that, given the circumstances. But, try to remember your training. Becoming overly-involved in a victim's life is highly ill-advised, for a lot of reasons. Please keep that in mind."

"I know that, Hotch. I just... He doesn't have anyone else."

"That's true for now, but his father will return, eventually. At that point, you'll have to pull back. You know that, right?"

Morgan gave him a grim look. "Yes. Don't worry. There won't be a complaint filed against the unit because of me getting up in the senior Reid's business."

"I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant. The dad is the dad-and, I respect that. I'll back off. But, he's not here now, so, I'm going to make sure the kid isn't alone. Count it as vacation time if you want, but I'm not leaving until I know he's got someone in his corner."

"By your definition, that person may not be his father."

"Yeah, well. He's his legal guardian, I can't change that."

"You're thinking of the baby."

"Sophie. Yeah. Spencer really wants to keep her, but his dad's said 'no way' all along. What're the odds he'll change his mind?"

"Hard to say-we'll see what happens when he actually gets a look at his granddaughter." Hotch gave a small smile, and Morgan slowly returned it. Then, he went to call Garcia, and Hotch went to find Prentiss to make plans for the rest of the team to head back to Quantico.


	13. Meeting Sophie

**A/N: Woo, finally got this chapter finished! Many thanks to reviewer HCPhillips for a bit of legal information and story guidance, it is much appreciated! **

**In this chapter, Spencer gets to meet Sophie... **

* * *

><p>Morgan was half-asleep in the ER waiting room, one leg propped across the other, arms folded across his chest. His wounded hand was now properly cleaned and bandaged, but it was throbbing badly. He tried to keep it elevated, but every time he slipped into a full doze, his hand dropped, sending a renewed rush of pain through him.<p>

He'd almost managed to fade out again, when he felt a light touch on his shoulder and a soft, "Agent Morgan?" by his ear. He opened his eyes to see the nice nurse who had kept them informed throughout Spencer's surgery standing beside him. Morgan was now able to take a moment to read her name tag and found her name was Joyce. He nodded as he stretched.

"Yeah, I'm awake-is he in the room?"

"Uh-huh. Come on, I'll take you up. He's on the third floor. He's still out, but I thought you'd like to be there when he wakes up."

"Absolutely."

Another RN was putting the finishing touches on hooking up an IV and setting a monitor at the head of Spencer's hospital bed when they came in. She turned and smiled.

"He's stirring. Won't be long now."

Morgan took a seat beside the bed and examined Spencer's still features. He was pale, but no longer had the bluish look of someone whose life's blood had been drained out of him. After a few minutes, his eyes fluttered open and he took in a deep breath. He looked blankly around him for a moment, then felt Morgan's hand on his arm and heard the low, comforting tone of the agent's voice saying, "Hey, kid. How you doin'?" and he turned his head toward him. He blinked, then smiled slightly.

"I'm... okay." His lips were dry and chapped and he tentatively ran his tongue over them. "Water?"

Morgan looked at the nurse, who nodded and poured a little from a styrofoam pitcher into a plastic cup. Morgan took it from her and helped Spencer navigate so that he could take a sip.

"Not too much, now," the nurse cautioned. "Nausea's a common side effect of the anesthesia."

"Okay." Spencer tiredly dropped his head back on the pillow, and his hands absently went to his belly. It was flatter, but swathed with bandages from the caesarean delivery. He screwed his eyes shut and pressed his lips together, as if forcing back tears. "Where's..." He turned to look at Morgan. "I mean-is my baby...?" He couldn't form the word.

Morgan gave a broad smile. "Sophie is fine. A little premature-they've got her in the newborn ICU 'cause she's not ready to breathe on her own just yet, but, she's strong and healthy, and doing just fine." He watched as Spencer's expression dissolved from fearful tension to utter relief. Tears escaped from his large brown eyes and trickled down his cheeks.

"Oh, thank God. Oh, jeeze. I was so scared-" He swiped at his eyes, forgetting an IV needle was in his hand, and he stared at it and said, "Ow."

"Here." Morgan got him a tissue and worked the IV tubing to give Spencer more range of motion. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks. So, she's-Sophie's okay?"

"Yep. You can ask Nurse Joyce if you don't believe me."

"Oh, I believe you, it's just... I really want to see her. When-when can I see her?"

"You both have to get a little stronger," Nurse Joyce said kindly but firmly.

Spencer looked as if he were going to argue, but he just frowned and sank his head back into the pillow, exhausted. He ran his hand over his belly again. "Feels weird without her." Then, he looked into Morgan's eyes. "So, am I... okay?" he asked uncertainly. Morgan glanced up at Nurse Joyce, who nodded.

"You're doing very well, all things considered. You had internal bleeding due to the injury inflicted on you earlier this afternoon, but that's all been taken care of. We'll get you out of bed tomorrow and see how it goes. You might be able to see your daughter in the afternoon. For now, here's some things you need to know..."

The nurse smiled cheerfully, then began going over what Spencer could do to deal with pain relief, then explained about when he could eat and drink normally again-he admitted he was starving-and bathroom issues. The boy looked overwhelmed, but Morgan listened carefully to make sure he'd be able to help him stay on top of it all.

"All right. Agent Morgan, are you planning to stay overnight?"

Morgan glanced at Spencer. "That's up to the kid. You ready to get rid of me yet?"

Spencer smiled weakly. "No. I'd like it if you stuck around."

"Okay. Well, I'll catch a few winks in this super comfy-looking recliner, if that's all right," he said to the nurse.

"Of course. I'll get you a pillow and blanket."

"Great." He turned back to Spencer. "Damn, youngster, you look exhausted. Why don't you try to sleep? I'll stay right here until you drop off, okay?"

"'kay." Morgan's persuasion was hardly necessary; Spencer looked as if he could barely keep his eyes open, and it didn't take long for him to slip into a deep sleep. Morgan watched the tension fade from his face, shocked at how vulnerable the boy looked in slumber. It was difficult to imagine him taking care of himself on his own, much less a tiny baby. But, Morgan had seen the determination in his eyes.

He knew he could do it, if only he'd get the chance.

* * *

><p>Not knowing how long it would be before Spencer would get to meet his daughter, Morgan came up with an idea.<p>

After he was sure Spencer was sound asleep, Morgan got up and found his way to the NICU and asked to speak to the charge nurse. She listened to his request, grinned, and took Morgan's phone inside. She then went to one of the incubators to take a few pictures of a tiny, tiny little girl with the name "Sophie Reid" typed on a band wrapped around her minute little ankle.

She returned and handed the phone back to Morgan; he looked at the photos immediately, and shook his head in amazement. "My God. She's so small. How can she even-"

"I know. There was a time when one so early wouldn't have had a chance. But, if things keep going for her the way they have been, she's going to be just fine."

"Thank you for the pictures, ma'am. This'll mean a lot to her dad."

"My pleasure."

Morgan couldn't wait to show the pictures to Spencer, but when he checked on him, the boy was still in deep sleep, and there was no need to disturb him after everything he'd been through. Morgan grinned at the peacefully sleeping teen, then settled into the chair provided for family members. He stretched out and used his phone to check his email. It occurred to him that he hadn't checked it for almost twenty-four hours. His scrolled through, and his eyes locked on one sender's name-_wmreid._

Oh, my God, he thought. He opened it, and it read:

"Agent Morgan-just managed to access my email, am still at sea. Will arrange a flight asap. Thank you for informing me about Spencer. Have there been further developments? Please let me know where I should meet you.

William Reid."

Morgan took a deep breath and wrote back, giving the basic information about recent events and Spencer's and Sophie's conditions, and the hospital address. He clicked off his phone and lay back, wondering what the hell would happen next.

* * *

><p>Both Spencer and Morgan had a restless night; nurses came in every few hours to take Spencer's vitals. Once, Spencer woke up on his own in pain, and in spite of Morgan's repeatedly pressing the call button, no one came to attend to him. Morgan finally got up and went in search of assistance, but by the time a nurse was recruited to bring a dose of additional pain medication, Spencer's face was pale and drawn, his knees were pulled up and he was clutching his midsection in pain.<p>

"Hey. Hey, kid-here's something to get your mind off of things." Morgan got his phone out and showed Spencer the photos of his daughter. His eyes widened. He wasn't prepared for the sight of the tubes and IV lines that dwarfed his little girl, and he stared for a moment, speechless.

"Oh-oh, my gosh, she's... tiny." He managed a small laugh. He held the phone in one hand and flipped back and forth through the pictures. Then, he looked at Morgan. "You're sure she's all right?"

"You bet. She's doing great." He squeezed Spencer's arm. "Don't worry. They know what they're doing around here, promise."

The pain medication was working its way into Spencer's system; his eyelids drooped, and his hand loosened around the phone. Morgan gently retrieved it, then checked to see if William Reid had replied yet.

He had. Just a quick message saying he would arrive at the hospital sometime late the next evening.

Morgan tucked his phone back in his pocket.

He was not looking forward to telling Spencer that his father was on the way.

* * *

><p>Spencer woke up in the morning wan, but excited and eager to meet his daughter. Mid-morning, Nurse Joyce came in to carefully help him get out of bed. Once he was on his feet, she guided him in taking a few steps and then took him off for a trip to the bathroom. Spencer returned looking pale, but he said, "Can I go see Sophie, now?"<p>

Nurse Joyce looked at him dubiously. "You really should wait until this afternoon. After your ordeal yesterday-"

"I'm fine. Please." Spencer looked imploringly from the nurse to Morgan and back again. "Please. I really need to see her."

"Well..."

Morgan cleared his throat. "Ma'am, I'll go with him, make sure he doesn't overdo. Would that be okay?"

Nurse Joyce smiled slightly. "I'll be taking him, but, yes, I can always use a back-up. I'll get a chair." She pointed a finger at Spencer. "You stay put until I get back."

"Yes, ma'am." Spencer gave Morgan a happy, yet slightly apprehensive, look. Morgan wondered what was troubling him, but he didn't ask.

Once Spencer was in the wheelchair with an IV tree set up for mobility, Morgan assumed navigation duties as Nurse Joyce led them to the NICU. In the elevator, Morgan ruffled Spencer's hair.

"Excited, kid?"

"Yeah." His voice was low and Morgan stepped around to kneel beside him.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd be over the moon, getting to see your baby."

"Oh, I am. It's just... what if she doesn't like me?"

Morgan cast a glance at Nurse Joyce, who smiled understandingly.

"I'm afraid it's going to be a while before you can really interact with her. She has to stay in the isolette until she can maintain her own body heat. Also, it's difficult with the respirator and IV. But, you can touch her and speak to her-she'll know your voice. Also, it's important that she have someone around who isn't there just to poke her and prod her."

"Yeah-and, anyway, she's been riding around inside you for months. I bet she's just waiting for you to come see her." Morgan squeezed Spencer's arm, watching the boy's face.

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, and Morgan stood up and waited until the elevator doors opened, then the three headed down the hall to the NICU. They stopped to introduce Spencer to the charge nurse, and he looked around at the large, sterile room filled with all sorts of machines that clicked, whirred and blinked.

"What do you think?" Morgan asked, noting Spencer's awed expression.

"It's like an alien pod farm, cultivating a new species."

The charge nurse laughed. "It feels like that, sometimes."

After some preparations, Spencer was wheeled in to sit by Sophie's unit and positioned so he could see her tiny face. He peered in and everyone was silent for a moment.

"Hi, Sophie," he said at last. "Look at you... You're so beautiful-I was afraid I'd never get to see you, but... here we are." His voice wavered and he bit his lip, not sure what to do.

"You can touch her," the charge nurse said. "Here, like this." She pulled away a cotton blanket from the baby's bare shoulders and guided Spencer's fingers to her delicate, near-translucent, skin. "You want to go easy, but don't worry-she won't break."

"Wow..." he said softly. He gently, gently rubbed the tiny back; with her legs drawn up, her whole body was smaller than his hand. Spencer could feel her move under his fingers, and she seemed to try to raise her head at his touch.

"Ah, see? She knows you," Morgan said.

"Yeah, I think she does," Spencer said. He looked back at the nurse. "How much does she weigh?"

"Two pounds, three ounces. And, she's fourteen inches long."

"Wow." Spencer marveled at how soft her skin was, at what it felt like to finally see and touch the little being he'd carried and felt moving inside him for not quite long enough. "She likes this, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she sure does. You're doing great, Spencer."

"I wish I could hold her."

"Maybe tomorrow."

"She's a beauty," Morgan pronounced after studying the elfin little face. "She's going to look just like you, kiddo. There'll be no stopping her."

Spencer laughed, both embarrassed and pleased at the roundabout compliment. The two chatted with the nurses for a few minutes, then Nurse Joyce said firmly, "All right, Spencer. Time to go back to your room. We don't want to wear out either of you."

"Oh-okay," Spencer said reluctantly. He carefully gave Sophie a gentle squeeze and said, "I'll come back, Sophie, I promise. I love you." He stared after her until Morgan wheeled him out. He was quiet on the trip back to his room.

Once Spencer was back in bed, Morgan sat down next to him. "You doing okay?"

Spencer nodded. "It's all kind of overwhelming. I'm really trying not to think too much. I feel like my brain's about to explode."

"Yeah, I can imagine." Morgan stared down at his bandaged hand, thinking. He supposed it wouldn't do any good to put off telling Spencer the news about his father. "Look, Spence-I heard from your dad. For real. He's... on his way."

Spencer's jaw tightened. "He is?"

"Yeah. He expects to be here this evening."

Spencer closed his eyes and his head slumped into the pillow. "Great."

Morgan pursed his lips and drummed his fingers on the night stand. He was pondering doing something he knew Hotch would not approve of. Finally, he shrugged and took a deep breath.

"Okay, listen. I know a little something about the law. Even though you're under age, your dad can't force you to give up the baby."

"I know that," Spencer said dully.

"You do?"

"Of course. I've done a lot of research. My father can't _make_ me give her away, but he can refuse to pay for her support. I can petition the court to be emancipated, but I'd have to either show that I can support myself and Sophie, or apply for public assistance. I'm not afraid to do that, Derek. I'd do anything. But, I don't know what kind of life that would be for her. I want her to have everything, good care, good schools..." He sighed.

"Maybe, once he sees her, your dad'll be willing to-"

"No. He's afraid of what the stigma of having a 'breeder boy' son will do to his law practice, and his eventual hopes of running for office. I'm quite a liability, apparently, and Sophie would just be living proof of that. If I force him to let me bring Sophie home with me, he'll hate me. And, Sophie."

"He's your dad."

"You don't know him. Nothing gets in his way, once he's set his mind on something."

"Maybe you could stay with someone else? A relative-"

"There's no one. Dad was an only child, and his parents died some time ago. I don't know anyone else who would want to deal with a teenager _and_ a baby in their lives." He turned his head away from Morgan. "I'll figure something out, Derek. I'll flip burgers if I have to. But, right now, I'm really tired. I think... I think I just need to sleep, if you don't mind."

"Sure, kid. Get some rest."

Morgan helped Spencer adjust the angle of the bed and his pillow, then went out to find some food and to check in with Hotch.


	14. William Reid

**A/N: Gaahhh, I am so sorry to have taken so long to update. My hubby and I are buying a house-a real "fixer-upper"-and I'm immersed in dealing with that for a while. But, I'll try not to take so long with the next chapter! Thank you to everyone for being so kind and patient! **

**Love,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>Morgan stepped out into the visitors' area and called Hotch.<p>

"Hotchner."

"Hey, Hotch. How's it going?"

"All right. Nicholson finally broke."

"Oh, yeah? What'd he say?"

"He turned out to be something of a garden-variety psychopath. He was choosing women based on opportunity-the Reid boy just happened to get in his way, and he directed his rage towards him."

"Hm. He could have gone on for a long time before getting caught, then."

"Yes. As badly as things went for the young man, it was fortunate he came along when he did. How's he doing, anyway? And, the baby?"

"He's holding up all right, so far. We're just waiting for his dad to arrive-we'll see how that goes. And, the baby's doing great, all things considered."

"That's good." Hotch paused a moment, then went ahead. "Morgan-you need to start distancing yourself-you know that, right?"

"I know. It's... not that easy, though."

"I understand. If you need anything-there's counseling available. I can-"

"Yeah. I just... The kid's really been through a lot. I just want to support him until we know what's happening, you know?"

"Of course. But, as soon as his father shows up, you need to back off. That's the reality-are you prepared to do that?"

Morgan sighed. "I'll do my job, don't worry."

"I'm not worried. You're a professional and I know you'll do the right thing. It's just that, as your supervisor, I need to remind you of what's at stake here. You're a federal agent, you represent the BAU-and, the minute his father shows up, that's where your involvement ends. I... know how hard that can be, sometimes."

Morgan's temper flared, but he fought it down. Hotch wasn't the one he was angry with, and he wasn't going to give in to the temptation to take his frustration out on his boss. "I know you do. Well... I guess I'll let you go. I'll give you an update after I find out how much of a bastard William Reid really is."

"Don't make snap judgments. But, all right. I'll let you know if another case comes up before you get back, but you are officially on leave, so do what you need to do. You might want to take a few days for yourself before you come back to work."

"I just might. Thanks, Hotch."

"Later."

They hung up, and Morgan stared at his phone for a moment, then called Garcia.

"Goddess of light and magic here. How're you doing, my bronze superhero?"

"I'm all right, mama. So are Spencer and Sophie. We're just waiting for the kid's pop to come in and kill the mood. Spencer's sure he won't make it easy for him to keep the baby, and he's talking about going on public assistance or flipping burgers for a living. I'm not liking that-he's got an amazing future ahead of him; it'd be a shame if he couldn't continue his education."

"Can't he stay with someone else? Where's his mom?"

"She lives in Vegas, but apparently, she has some sort of psychological issues. No, he's only got his dad. It's breaking my heart, Pen."

Garcia twiddled a strand of her her blonde hair. "Why don't you take him? You have room in your house for both of them. It might cramp your lady-killer lifestyle a bit, but-"

Morgan laughed ruefully. "Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind. But, we're a long way away from that possibility. We still have to see what his dad says."

"I love to babysit. Just sayin'."

"Garcia, you are too much. I'm going to let you go, now. I'll talk at you later."

"Okay. Give the cutie-pies my love."

"Will do."

Morgan hung up and went to find the hospital cafeteria. He desperately needed to fill his stomach and let his brain take a rest before William Reid arrived, or he thought he might do something unprofessional and completely un-Hotch-like as soon as he met the man.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed excruciatingly slowly. Spencer was really hurting now, but with pain medication, he was able to sleep. In between naps, he was too preoccupied to talk much. Morgan read the paper, checked email, chatted with nurses and managed to fall asleep a couple of times sitting upright in the recliner next to Spencer's bed.<p>

He dreamed of Spencer-long, slender hands holding a laughing baby girl, and that smile-he'd seen it so rarely, but when it came, it lit up the room. In his dream, Spencer was walking beside him, then the baby was somewhere else, and it was just the two of them. Then, somehow, Spencer was in his arms, warm and strong and so real... And, there was a feeling, one of those feelings that make perfect dream-sense, but defy waking comprehension; a feeling of belonging, of rightness, yet there was an undertow, a yearning ache that flooded through him until it filled him up and threatened to bring him to tears.

It snapped him out of his unconscious state into full, mood-shattering awakeness, and he sat upright for a moment, dazed, trying to make sense of it.

"Damn it," he thought. This was not good-not good at all. In his waking moments, he'd felt nothing for the boy but paternal concern-where the hell had that dream come from? With a quick glance at the sleeping teen, Morgan stood up and strode out of the room to clear his mind. He went back to the waiting room, a sunny space with large windows, and he put his forehead on the cool glass and stared down at the lush hospital landscaping below.

* * *

><p><em>Out in the hall, two hours later...<em>

"I'm William Reid." The tall man held out his hand. Morgan shook it firmly.

"I'm Special Supervisory Agent Derek Morgan. Good to meet you."

Reid nodded. "So, you've been looking after my son."

"Yes, sir."

The man gave an icy smile. "Didn't do so well there at the police station, eh?"

Morgan's eyes narrowed, and he licked his lips. "There were a number of... unfortunate circumstances that all came together in the worst possible way. But, I take full responsibility for what happened."

Reid's smile relaxed a bit. "No, no, I don't blame you. I understand the Palmer sheriff's department is woefully behind in its security measures. Something I'll be calling to the attention of the state advisory board in time for next year's elections. No, I've already heard how you were there for Spencer, and I deeply appreciate it." He glanced at the hospital room door labeled "Reid."

"Well-I'd like to see my son, now."

Morgan gestured at Spencer's door; Reid opened it and went inside. Morgan hung back, staying just within the doorframe.

Reid stood at the foot of his son's bed and said, "Hello, Spencer."

Spencer painfully pulled himself into a sitting position. "Hi, Dad."

They stared at each other for a moment, then Reid strode over and hugged him. "I'm so sorry, Spencer. I'm so sorry I haven't been here for you."

"Where were you, Dad? Why didn't I hear from you?"

Reid sat down next to the bed. "I... had an episode. The doctor said it was stress-related, and he advised me to rest for a bit. Some friends of mine were going on a cruise and they urged me to go along with them. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I should have checked in, I can see that now, but I was... I was trying to decompress. I'm so, so sorry." He brushed the hair away from Spencer's face and smiled reassuringly. "But, I'm here now, and everything's going to be all right."

Spencer took the pillow he'd been given to help cushion his incision area and pulled it to him. He glanced at Morgan, then looked back at his father. "I got to see my baby. Sophie. I... named her Sophie." He smiled tentatively. "She's beautiful. So tiny, but she's going to be okay. Wait'll you see her, Dad, you won't believe it, they've got her on a ventilator and in an incubator, but she still-"

"Spencer." Reid's voice was firm, but gravelly. "That's wonderful. But, remember-you can't keep her, son. We talked about this."

Morgan watched Spencer's face. His expression went from happy to cold and defiant.

"I know what we talked about. But, things have changed. Everything's different-there's absolutely no way I'm giving up Sophie. She's my daughter, and I'm not going to let her go. Ever."

Reid sighed and chuckled ruefully. He glanced at Morgan. "This is one stubborn kid, isn't he? I'm sure you've had a few run-ins with him already. Spencer, I understand. It's a terrible shame that you've already become so attached. But, there's simply no way this will work. Not for your education, not for your future, and not for my career."

"I can put off dealing with my education for a few years-I'm a little ahead of the game, if you'll recall." Spencer's eyes flashed. "Thanks to your insistence that I be tutored by Professor Lindley."

"That's not fair." The senior Reid spoke quietly. "You can't blame me for all this."

"You never even told me there was a chance that I might be a 'breeder boy,'" Spencer said bitterly. "If I'd known-"

"What? You might have actually come to the one person who loves you and cares for you when you suffered a terrible trauma, instead of keeping it a secret for weeks?"

"No, Dad. If I'd known there was a chance I'd gotten pregnant, I might have chosen to take the morning-after pill. Without that knowledge, I had no choice. By the time I realized I was pregnant, it was too late."

"You'd have done that without telling me?"

"Yeah. My body, my choice. But, the opportunity to make that decision was taken away from me and I ended up having a baby-so, really, I should thank you. If you'd have been honest with me, I probably wouldn't have had her."

Reid closed his eyes, pursed his lips, and nodded slightly. "Yes. Yes, you're right. I should have... I should have told you the truth. And, I was going to, when the time was right. I just never thought-"

"That any son of yours might be gay?"

"No! That he might be _assaulted_ by someone we both trusted."

They both fell silent. Spencer tiredly lay back, a grimace of pain on his face.

Finally, he spoke softly. "I love her, Dad."

"You can't keep her."

"You can't force me to give her up."

Reid's voice sharpened. "No, but I can't be forced to support her, either."

In spite of the pain, Spencer raised himself on one arm and snapped, "Well, I'm not asking you to. I'll take care of her and myself, both. Don't worry about us."

Reid gave a bitter laugh. "My God. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. All right, fine." Reid stood up. "As long as you're willing to support her on your own, I have nothing more to say about it." He stared down at Spencer, shaking his head. "You'll have to get the Massachusetts court to declare you emancipated if you want any money from me. And, you'll have to figure out where to live, where to get money for child care, and so on. Good luck with that. You're only fifteen, not a lot of career opportunities out there for someone of your age. But, as you say-it's your choice." His voice now had a sarcastic tone, and Morgan could see by the way he held himself that he offered Spencer no room for further discussion. He just stood there, and Spencer stared up at him unwaveringly, his jaw set; neither of them said anything for a long time. Then, Reid shrugged.

"I love you, son. Keep in touch, and let me know if you change your mind." With that, he turned and strode out of the room.

Morgan watched him go, his mouth open. He followed him out.

"Excuse me-can I have a word with you, Mr. Reid?"

The man sighed and faced Morgan. "Yes?"

"Look, I'm sorry. I know this isn't my place, but are you seriously going to leave that boy on his own? He's recovering from major surgery, has a premature infant to care for, and no money. Doesn't seem real responsible of you, in my opinion."

"No, Agent, this isn't your place. But, since you've asked me a question, I have one for you. Do you have children?"

Morgan stared. "No."

"Ah, well, then. You wouldn't understand-let me explain. Of course I don't intend to leave him on his own. He's my son! But, I do know a thing or two about teenagers, and I'm not going to waste my breath arguing with him. He's got at least two more days of recovery here in the hospital, and he'll use it to think things over. My son's headstrong, but he's anything but stupid. Now that I've bowed out of the equation, he'll see how foolish his idea of keeping the child really is. He'll come to the right conclusion, and it'll be his own decision. He'll call me and say he's giving her up and wants to come home. I'll congratulate him on his maturity, and then we can get him back on track with his studies. Yes, he'll take it hard, but after a while, he'll get over it. You see? A win-win situation." Reid tipped his head smugly, then began walking toward the exit.

Morgan started to follow, but Hotch's words came back to him-you need to back off-and he reluctantly stopped himself. He returned to Spencer's room, where the nurse was now taking the boy's vitals. He saw Spencer hastily wipe away a tear and heard him clear his throat. Morgan went to the other side of the bed and said, "I'm sorry, kid."

"I don't care. I knew this would happen, and honestly, I'm glad. I don't need him. I told you, I'll figure it out. I'm not giving up my daughter."

Morgan sighed and sat down. "Spencer, I know how much she means to you, and I hate to say it, but... Your dad's got a point. If he won't help you, what choice do you have? Think about it-how are you going to take care of her? Where will you live? Sophie's going to be in the NICU for at least a couple of months. You can't afford a hotel, or-"

The nurse, Janet, spoke up. "Excuse me-I'm sorry, I'm not eavesdropping, but do you know about the Family Place?"

"No-what's that?" Spencer asked.

"It's a kind of home-away-from-home for the parents of sick children. It's free. You have to take care of food and personal needs yourself, but you can live there for no cost as long as your baby's in the hospital."

"Really? That's fantastic!" Spencer said. He looked at Morgan. "I can find some kind of job to cover expenses while I'm there, right?"

"Well-if you get emancipated, your dad'll have to provide child support for you. I don't know a lot about Massachusetts's family law, but I can find someone to help you out on that." Morgan watched Spencer's face light up, and he felt a surge of happiness, himself. "Maybe by then, he'll change his mind about you bringing Sophie home."

"Oh, that'll never happen." Spencer frowned, then looked hopefully at Morgan. "What if we came to live with you?"

Morgan swallowed hard, then shook his head. "Uh... No. I... I'd love to help you, kid, I really would. But, that would just not work out. I'm sorry."

Spencer's face fell, but he nodded. "No, no, of course. I'm the one who's sorry, I shouldn't have put you in that position. I was just... thinking." He smiled with a show of confidence that Morgan doubted he really felt. "Don't worry, by the time Sophie's released, I'll have it worked out." He settled back in the bed and looked up at the ceiling.

Morgan nodded and ran a hand over his shaved head. He was grateful that the boy would have some breathing room, but he couldn't imagine how things could ever work out for him and his little girl.


	15. Getting Stronger

**A/N: Hello! Sorry for the long wait! Things are quieting down slightly, so hope to be able to get back to writing a bit more. **

**Warning for this chapter-it contains reference to the sexual assault of a minor, so please be aware.**

**Love,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>Hours in the hospital went by, turning into one, two, then three days.<p>

Spencer got stronger; his determination to spend as much time as possible with his baby girl spurred him to get out of bed and walk, even when it hurt, even when the weakness in his legs made him stumble and shake. Morgan came every day and helped him as he could; whenever the teen approached new milestones, he said encouraging things like "You can do this, kid," and "Man, I'm so proud of you I could bust! You're doing great!" He liked the way Spencer smiled at his support, the way his confidence seemed to blossom and grow in front of Morgan's eyes.

The first time Spencer got to hold Sophie in his arms, Morgan was there. Spencer was given a rocking chair, and Morgan pulled up a metal visitor's seat. He watched as the nurse took the swaddled infant out of the incubator and gently laid her in her father's nervous, but eager grasp; Spencer took her, amazed at how she felt barely there, yet so substantial, as if energy were radiating from inside the well-worn cotton blanket.

He glanced at Morgan for reassurance.

"She's so-little."

Morgan grinned. "But, she's bigger than she was yesterday, and a whole lot bigger than she was when she came out. And, she knows who's got her; see how she's relaxing? She knows she's in her daddy's arms."

Spencer nodded slightly, and a smile spread across his face. "She does, doesn't she? Wow. She-she really does know me." A look of wonder filled his eyes and he eased back in the chair, instinctively rocking her in a soothing motion.

"Would you like to feed her?" the nurse asked. "This'll be her first time taking a bottle."

"Oh, yes, please." He was handed an extra small preemie bottle with barely an ounce of formula in it. He looked questioningly at the nurse.

"I know it doesn't look like a lot, but for her, it's like a gallon. She may have a hard time learning to nurse, so you'll have to help her. We took her off intravenous feeding this morning, so it's really important that she get it all down."

Spencer looked worried. "What do I do?"

"I'll show you."

The nurse demonstrated how to get the baby started on suckling. It must have seemed strange to the tiny being, and at first she scrunched up her face and fussed, turning her head away from the nipple. But Spencer followed the nurse's instructions and gently squeezed some formula into Sophie's mouth. At the taste of the warm fluid, she suddenly became interested and began tentatively sucking. Spencer spoke softly to her, and Morgan realized he was encouraging her, just as he'd been encouraging the boy in his recovery. As a perceptible bit of liquid disappeared into the baby, Spencer looked excitedly at Morgan.

"Look, Morgan! She's doing it! She's eating!"

"That's the way! You must have the Daddy touch, kiddo."

Just then, a laugh came from the other side of the room, where a young couple was also getting to hold their premature infant for the first time.

Spencer glanced up but didn't acknowledge the happy scene, seemingly too focused on his own little one to notice. Still, Morgan wondered if it bothered him, not having anyone to share moments like this with other than a nurse and a man he barely knew-a federal agent who was there more out of pity and a sense of duty than anything else, at least so far as Spencer knew. Morgan shifted in his chair, then got distracted by the nurse helping Spencer reposition the bottle so that Sophie didn't suck in air that would cause a tummy ache.

Sophie caught on quickly, and although she was weak, once she got the hang of nursing she drew in her nourishment in enthusiastic little spurts, then faded into sleep. Spencer would gently wake her up each time and get her to take more. Morgan watched, fascinated, as they repeated the routine over and over again until at last she finished, sighed contentedly and promptly fell into a deep slumber.

Spencer held up the empty bottle and heaved a sigh of relief. "Whew. I was afraid she'd never take it all."

Morgan chuckled. "Yeah-it was like watching somebody trying to win a hot dog eating contest. Pretty damn suspenseful."

The nurse returned and said kindly, "You did very well, Dad. But I think she'd better go back to bed now. I bet she's worn out."

"Okay." Spencer reluctantly gave her to the nurse and watched as she was placed in the incubator. Then, he slowly got to his feet, winced, and said ruefully, "I'm a little worn out myself."

Morgan rose as well. "All right then, let's get you back to the room." They made their way down a long hospital corridor as Spencer gingerly favored his injured side and stopped to rest several times. By the time they got back to his bed, the blood was drained from his face and he wasn't up to making conversation. He lay down, and Morgan pulled the covers over him and gave his arm a squeeze. "I bet you feel like you just climbed Mount Everest, huh?"

"Something like that." Spencer smiled tiredly. "But it was totally worth it."

"Yeah. And, it'll be easier tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Both of you are getting stronger."

"I know. It's... amazing, what the human body is capable of. And, all the energy needed to get there. The cell replication rate in a newborn infant is-"

Morgan resisted brushing a strand of hair out of the boy's face. "Shh, tell me later. Right now you need to rest. And I'm going to go track down some grub-you go to sleep, okay?"

"Oh-okay."

"I'll be back later."

"All right."

Morgan headed to the door, then he heard Spencer say, "Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for being there just now, with Sophie and me. It was kind of neat to have someone to share that with."

Morgan nodded, thinking of William Reid and how he'd walked out on his son and granddaughter. Morgan knew he shouldn't be filling that paternal role, but what could he do? The boy didn't have anyone else.

As if reading Morgan's thoughts, Spencer added, "You didn't have to do that."

"It's no problem. I was glad to be there."

"It's nice of you. But... someone else should be here for us."

Morgan sighed. "Spence, I know it's hard to forgive your dad, but-"

"No. Not him. The... other parent. There should be another parent here. And, there never will be, even if I do get to keep her. She'll only ever just have me."

Morgan turned and came back to pull up a chair, mulling over the pain in Spencer's words. He'd somehow managed to forget that Sophie did indeed have another father, even if just in terms of simple biology. Now, he felt surprised that Spencer would bring that man up. He'd never made the slightest reference to him before, other than when someone else raised the specter of how his pregnancy had come to be. Morgan sought Spencer's gaze and fixed him with a firm look.

"I get the impression that that's a good thing. Am I right?"

Spencer nodded. "Of course. He's in prison, where he belongs. But, it shouldn't be this way. For her, I mean. A child deserves two parents. It would sure make things easier for her in the future, if there was someone else she could count on."

"I'm sorry, man."

Spencer shrugged and was quiet for a long moment. Then he said softly, "I thought I loved him, you know."

"Oh." Morgan didn't know what else to say.

"Can you imagine? I was so stupid. I daydreamed about him. He was so handsome, so smart and sophisticated. I... imagined us being together. Just ridiculous schoolboy fantasies, but then..."

"What?"

"I couldn't believe it. The more time we spent together, the more he seemed to like me, too. He would talk to me, ask my opinion on stuff. Made me feel like an adult, like he respected me. Told me I had such a great future ahead of me, and how he'd be there to help me along the way. I was so happy. I really thought-I really thought he cared about me." Spencer fell silent and stared past Morgan out the window. "Then, one night he came by the house when my dad was out of town. Asked me if I wanted to come over to swim at his place, have dinner. Just for fun, no studying, you know? Of course I said yes.

"He took me over there, and offered me wine. I'd never had alcohol before-I liked it. He gave me more, and more. Then, he said we could go swimming. I went to change, but... He followed me. He came into the room, and when I was down to my underwear, he..." A sob suddenly caught in the boy's throat and he stopped.

Morgan wearily ran a hand over his brow. "It's okay, Spence. You don't have to tell me any more. I think I know what happened." He knew all too well.

A tear trickled down Spencer's cheek and he nodded, struggling to hold back his emotions, but he started speaking again as if he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. "I told him no. I was kind of drunk, but even so, I knew I didn't want it. Not then, not like that. He scared me, it was like he was a different person all of a sudden.

"I tried to get away, but he... He was too strong. He pushed me down on the bed and... It hurt. He said it wouldn't if I just stopped fighting him, so I did, but it hurt anyway." Spencer swiped away the tear and cleared his throat. "When he was finished, he asked me what was wrong. As if he thought I should be happy. As if he'd... done me a favor, or something." Spencer's bitterness cut through the tears.

"I couldn't say anything. I was just numb. Then, he told me I shouldn't tell my dad, because he wouldn't believe me, that it would just make me look bad. And I knew that was true. He was born into old money, and well-respected in the academic community, as well. He and my dad were good friends. Besides, I felt so stupid, I just wanted to get away and forget it ever happened. So, I let him drive me home and I never said a word."

Spencer drew in a deep breath and exhaled noisily. "Afterwards, I just sort of went into myself, made up some story about how the tutoring was on hold for a while so I wouldn't have to go over there any more. I went through the motions of going to school and so forth. Thought I could just get past it, then I'd go away to college and never have to think about it again. Of course, I had no idea I could... get pregnant."

Morgan sat back heavily in his chair. "You weren't stupid. You trusted someone, that's all. Kids need people in their lives to trust, to look up to. It's when those people take that trust and abuse it-that's evil, that's how monsters are born." After a moment, he leaned forward and made Spencer look him in the eye. "Know this, kid-you didn't do anything wrong. He was the one who took something precious and used it to his own selfish advantage. Thank God he got what he deserved."

Spencer sniffed. "But, I was weak! I would have walked away and left him to do it to someone else. How can I forgive myself for that?"

Morgan shook his head. "You were in shock, and you were scared. And, let's face it, you didn't exactly have a strong support system around you. That's what these predators count on-intimidation, and the fact that there's no one around to help their victims. Let it go. Use it to help someone else someday. Right now, you have plenty of things to worry about without beating yourself up. Got that?"

Spencer held his gaze, seeming to draw strength from it. Finally, he nodded. "Got it."

"Good." After the tension passed, Morgan smiled and ruffled Spencer's hair. "Now, I'm serious, man-you have got to get some rest. You want me to get the nurse in here to give you something to help you sleep?"

"No, that's okay. I'm about out for the count right now." Spencer gave a rueful grin and rubbed his eyes tiredly, then turned on his side and snuggled down into the covers. Morgan watched as the rise and fall of his breathing slowed to an even rhythm, and he waited a few more minutes to make sure he was in deep sleep before standing up and heading out.

He went downstairs and out to the street.

He really needed some air.


	16. Consultation

**A/N: (slinks up guiltily) As usual, so sorry for the long wait. I've been having a dearth of inspiration, but things have improved! Anyway, here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy.**

**Love,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>More days passed in the sterile world of the county hospital. Spencer's rate of recovery was impressive to his doctor, and while he refused to speculate on when the boy might be well enough to be discharged, Morgan got the impression that he seemed to think it might be soon.<p>

Morgan certainly hoped so, as he could tell that the monotony and boredom of being a patient were getting to Spencer in the worst way. The more his physical health improved, the more he wanted to do things that he wasn't supposed to do, such as removing his IV line and taking off to see Sophie whenever he felt like it, and sneaking down to the visitor's area to help himself to the free coffee.

He had become a vexation to his nurses, but also a pet; they had all came to love the young man who was so smart, so talkative, and so in love with his baby daughter.

Morgan did his best to keep a leash on him, but it was a losing battle.

* * *

><p>Early one morning, Spencer was complaining about his stitches being itchy, and it had reached the point that Morgan went down to the nurses' station to plead for help. A few minutes later, he sat by Spencer's bed, watching gratefully as the nurse changed the teen's bandages. She soon finished and stood up with an air of accomplishment about her.<p>

"There you go, dear. Nice and fresh. Feel better?"

Spencer, who had been intently watching the procedure and offering non-stop commentary on surgical closing procedures and his opinion of his own doctor's apparent lack of finesse, nodded. "Yes, thank you. The stitches don't feel like they're pulling quite so much now."

"I know that's annoying, but it just means you're healing. You're doing great, Mr. Reid. You'll be out of here before you know it." The nurse gave him a cheery smile and then turned to Morgan.

"The doctor will be here in a little while, so don't run off, okay? I think he wants to discuss a discharge date."

Morgan nodded his acknowledgement and waited until the nurse left to say, "Well, it's about time. I know you can't wait to get out of here."

Spencer irritably shifted to his side. "You can say that again. I'm sick of hospital food."

Morgan chuckled. "Well, I bet I can sneak in something decent a little later."

Spencer's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah, you're eating normal food now, well, what passes for normal in here. No reason you can't have something better. What would you like?"

Spencer considered. "Um-well, I'd be happy with a hamburger. Not fast food, though."

"Okay, I'll-" Just then, Morgan's phone rang. He checked the number and saw it was Hotch. He felt a stab of unease-Hotch called every so often just to check on him, but never this early. "Damn. It's a work call-I'll take it outside. You think about what you want with your burger, and I'll be right back." Morgan stepped into the hall and snapped open his phone as he headed for the visitor lounge. "Morgan here."

"Hello. So-how's the young man doing?"

"Really well. It's amazing. In fact, he's well enough that he's driving everybody crazy. I'm hoping they'll release him in a day or two."

"Wonderful. And the baby?"

"Well, she's still got a long haul ahead of her, but she's growing and appears to be perfectly healthy, aside from the preemie issues. All in all, she's doing great."

"That's good. Then, I don't feel so bad about asking this-I know you're taking some personal time, but could you possibly come in for a day or two? I really need your expertise on a case."

Morgan felt his heart sink. Normally, he'd be all over any kind of challenge that needed his special skills, but he had really hoped to be around when Spencer made the move from hospital patient to Family Place resident. In spite of his eagerness to get out of the hospital, Morgan knew he'd need some support during the transition, especially since he'd be having to go job hunting on top of being more removed from Sophie. "Uh-well, I can if you really need me, but-"

"We're dealing with a serial bomber. There have been three incidents, all targeting government facilities. No fatalities so far, but it appears that the unsub is escalating. We need to catch him before someone does get hurt."

Morgan's days on the bomb squad had taught him more than the mechanics of bomb making. He was uniquely prepared to read an incendiary device like a map of an unsub's brain.

He sighed.

"Yeah. Of course. I'll catch a plane-I should be there late this afternoon or early evening."

"Thank you. I'll have Garcia meet you; she can fill you in on the details."

"All right. Later, man."

Hotch didn't bother to respond, and the line went dead. Morgan went back to Spencer's room to let him know what was going on, and also to use his laptop to make a plane reservation.

* * *

><p>Later, Morgan went out and returned with the promised meal for Spencer, and he and the boy were munching burgers in the hospital room as he explained more about why he had to leave for a couple of days.<p>

"I'm sorry, kid. I'll probably be back before they release you, but..."

"No, really, it's okay, Morgan. It's kind of amazing that you have that kind of knowledge-and, you definitely need to take care of your work. Anyway, even if they do let me out before you get back, don't worry. I'll be fine." The boy spoke confidently, but Morgan caught a glimpse of uncertainty in his eyes.

"I know you will. But, it's kind of a big deal, isn't it? You'll be completely on your own for the first time-with a baby still in the hospital. There's no shame in being a little freaked out about that."

Spencer nodded and shrugged. "I just want to get to bring her home." After a moment, he laughed slightly and added, "Not that I have one. But, that's why I want to get out of here so badly-I need a job. I want to start saving money so I can be ready to take care of Sophie when she gets discharged." He suddenly smiled. "It's so neat having her out where I can see her, and hold her, and..." He glanced down at his stomach. "I was so used to having her with me. It's weird that she's not in there anymore. But it'll be even worse when we're not in the same building." He looked up. "I'm kind of not looking forward to that."

"I know. It'll be okay." Morgan felt helpless, leaving Spencer with the move looming ahead of him, but he glanced at his watch and realized he needed to get to the airport if he was going to catch his plane. "Like I said, this shouldn't take too long, and the doctor said you needed to stay put for at least a couple more days. I'll be back before you know it." He smiled and gave Spencer's shoulder a squeeze. "And, don't hesitate to call me if you want to talk. Any time."

"'Kay." Spencer took a deep breath and said, "I'll see you later, then."

"Later."

Morgan strode out and went downstairs to hail a cab to the airport.

* * *

><p>"Oh, how I've missed my choco-hunk."<p>

Garcia sighed dreamily as she navigated her beloved vehicle, Esther, out of the D.C. airport parking lot and pointed it toward Quantico.

"Missed you, too, mama." Morgan grinned; no one could put him in an upbeat mood like Garcia. "So, we've got a serial bomber on our hands, huh?"

Garcia proceeded to give Morgan a rundown on the case, then handed him an iPad so he could view some video footage. Morgan asked questions, and by the time they reached BAU headquarters, he felt he was up to speed on the details of the situation and ready to examine the evidence.

They headed up to meet Hotch and were taken to a lab, where Morgan was left to inspect the recovered elements from two of the bomb sites. Garcia returned, laptop in hand, and waited as Morgan did a thorough examination. When he was done, he took a deep breath, frowned, and stepped away from the table as he pulled off his latex gloves.

"This isn't an amateur job. Somebody knows their way around explosives-and, this piece from the earlier incident shows that the unsub knows exactly what he's doing. The fact that he's targeting government buildings means he wants to engage with us specifically, but he could have made this far more damaging. It's like he's teasing us."

Morgan went on to offer Garcia several clues to put into her database, and before too long they had a preliminary profile of where the unsub was based and the sort of mentality they were dealing with.

After the rush of excitement at making such rapid progress wore off, they sat back and looked at each other as some of the tension ebbed away. "I better call Hotch," Garcia said. She punched in his speed dial on the lab phone, and gave him the news; he said he would assemble the team, and for her and Morgan to meet them in the conference room in ten.

After Morgan and Garcia briefed them on their findings, Hotch gave out assignments, and in a matter of minutes, Hotch, JJ, Prentiss and Rossi were working the case, leaving the other two behind.

Morgan leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes tiredly. When he opened them, he saw Garcia looking at him expectantly.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, I can't wait another minute. Tell me about the baby!"

He chuckled. "She's cute. You know that-I've been sending you pictures."

"I know! But, what's it like, holding such a teensy infant? Is she really okay?"

"Yeah, absolutely. And, it's great. She doesn't really do much, but I can feel her getting stronger every day. She's more responsive, too. And, Spencer-" Morgan checked his enthusiasm.

Garcia waited, but Morgan didn't continue. She knit her brow and prodded, "Yeah? What about him?"

"Oh-he's doing great, too. Should be discharged by the end of the week." He made sure his tone was nonchalant, hoping they could go back to discussing the baby and not Spencer, but Garcia jumped on the new topic with gusto.

"Good! What's he going to do? Where's he going to stay? How's he feeling, and has he lost the baby weight yet?"

"Uh-he's doing okay, and yeah, I guess. He never really had much on him to begin with."

Garcia's eyes narrowed. "I hate men. It's not fair-if I had a baby, I'd blow up like a balloon."

Morgan chuckled, and gave her a quick rundown on Spencer's plans to move to the Family Place, his intention to get whatever job he could to take care of his immediate needs and to save so that he could find a place to live when Sophie was eventually released from neonatal care. Morgan noticed Garcia's expression deepen into a frown of concern.

"My God, Morgan-a fifteen year old boy is going to support himself and a baby all on his own? How realistic is that?"

"I don't know. I really hope that asshole, William Reid, will come through for the kid. But, I have my doubts. It's a case of one damn stubborn rock meeting a cold-hearted hard place, and I'll be amazed if either one of them gives in. In the meantime, Sophie's growing, and Spencer's getting farther and farther away from continuing his education."

"Well, that's ridiculous." She was quiet for a moment, then added firmly, "You should take them."

Morgan had seen that coming, and he pursed his lips a moment before responding. "Not going to happen."

"Why? You have plenty of room in your house. Spencer could go to the university, I bet there's some government program that would help pay for-"

"Garcia-Miss Hardhead, will you listen to me? I can't. I just... can't. Leave it at that, okay?"

Garcia stared at her friend, trying to read his steely expression. Clearly, there was something going on with him, and, even if she wanted to, it wasn't in her nature to leave it alone. "What the hell, Derek? I know it'd be a big change for you, a lot of responsibility, but how can you refuse, given the circumstances? I promise, I'd help you, everyone would. You're already acting like a dad to him, what would be so hard about having him and the baby come to-"

"Penelope! Stop. Just stop." Garcia's loving determination was picking at the chinks in his armor and he felt a torrent of emotion rush through him. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to choose his words. Garcia blinked, but stayed quiet. Finally, Morgan looked her in the eye.

"My feelings for him aren't exactly paternal. Do you know what I'm saying?" He felt tears tugging at his eyes and he tightened his jaw in an effort to force them back.

Garcia's frown morphed into a bewildered stare. "Huh? What are you talking about? I-" Suddenly, understanding dawned and her eyes widened. "Oh. Oh, Derek. My God. You mean, you... Oh." Garcia was the only one at the BAU that Morgan had ever confided in regarding the fact that his sexual orientation was more complex than the image he maintained for the public. He nodded.

"Yeah. I can't... I can't bring him into my life, feeling this way. What if something happened? What if... I crossed a line? I'd be like Carl freakin' Buford. Goddamn it, baby girl, I won't be like that monster. I won't."

"You're not! Oh, God, Derek, you're not, come on. Come on, don't even think that, not for a second! Okay, so you have some sort of attraction to him-that happens. But, it doesn't mean you're like Buford. No way." Garcia put her arm around Morgan's shoulders. "You're a good, decent man. If you weren't, you wouldn't even be worrying about this. So, stop. Just... stop." She pressed her forehead against Morgan's cheek, and felt the stress roiling in his body as he fought to control his emotions.

They were silent for a long moment, then Morgan angrily swiped at his eyes. "Anyway, you can see how that wouldn't work. I won't put the kid in that kind of situation, and to be honest, I don't want to do that to myself. It wouldn't be right, and it wouldn't be fair."

He turned his gaze to Garcia. "And don't think I don't feel like a piece of shit because of it," he added in a bitter tone.

"Derek," she said softly. "Derek, listen, don't do this to yourself. You're a human being, that's all. You're right, you're right not to take him, knowing that you feel that way. But, it doesn't make you the same as Buford. Know that." She picked up his hand and squeezed. _"Know that._ Okay?"

Morgan laughed weakly and squeezed back. "Yeah. All right. But, no matter what, the fact remains that I'm just one more bastard in that kid's life who's failed him. He deserves better."

"Oh, baby. You haven't failed him. You've been there for him, and you've helped him more than you know. Don't worry, things will work out." She grinned. "You know, I haven't even begun to work my Garcia magic on this thing. You wait and see. It'll be all right."

A feeling of horror went through Morgan's core as his mind snapped to some of the awful possibilities of what Garcia could do when on a mission. "Now, hold up there, young lady. Whoa-don't you dare go messing with William Reid's life. He's a hardcore jerk and an attorney, and he wouldn't hesitate to go into full defensive mode if you were to-"

"Oh, give me a break. I'm not stupid-trust me, okay? It'll work out. I promise."

Morgan eyed her suspiciously, but nodded. "Uh-huh. Just remember, if you get legal action going against the BAU, it won't be just you going down-Hotch'll send me with you, no two ways about it."

Garcia tsk-ed. "You of so little faith. How do you make it through the day?" She stood up and kissed Morgan on top of his head. "You're dealing with a tech goddess, sweetheart. Everything's going to be fine."

Morgan watched her purposefully sashay out of the lab, and he shook his head. As terrified as he was of what Garcia might unleash, he also felt a warm ray of hope nudge through his worry and concern.

If anybody could pull off a miracle, it was his baby girl.


	17. Garcia Comes Through

**A/N: Ooo, look at me posting again so soon. Woot! We're coming near the end, folks! Probably just one or two more chapters to go. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, you guys are tops!**

**Love,**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>That night, Morgan went to dinner with Rossi, Hotch, JJ and Prentiss; they had a strong lead on the bomber's identity, but were having trouble tracking him down. They managed to put the case out of their minds for a couple of hours in order to enjoy a good meal and to catch up with Morgan, after missing him for several days.<p>

After a lot of general chatter, the topic turned to what Morgan had been dealing with back in Palmer.

"So-you think the boy's really going to be able to provide for the baby when she gets released?" Rossi had a dubious look on his face, and it irritated Morgan.

"Yeah, I do. You know, I'm sick of everyone assuming the kid's out before the count. He's determined, and he's smart. I know he'll have extra challenges trying to take care of Sophie on his own, but if anyone can do it, he can." His tone came off a bit more harshly than he intended, but he was having to try to squash his own doubts-and his guilt at not being there for the boy.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to question the lad's superhuman abilities," Rossi replied with a lift of an eyebrow. "I'm just a little skeptical. Teenage parents can do well, but they normally have a strong support system on which to rely. This lad seems to be lacking that."

Morgan sighed. "I expect his dad will come through at the end and do the right thing. How could anyone just walk away from his own son and grandchild? He's just being an asshole and waiting for Spencer to give in and ask for help."

"Which may never happen, given what you've told us about the kid's stubbornness." Hotch stabbed another potsticker with his chop stick and munched on it thoughtfully. "If he managed to stand up to a sheriff in a backwoods jail cell for three days in the face of a murder accusation, I seriously doubt he's going to go to his father in supplication."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Morgan agreed. "He really is too young to understand just what he's getting himself into."

"You're right-but, it's going to hit him eventually. He might end up deciding to put the baby up for adoption after all," Prentiss said gently.

Morgan shook his head. "Uh-uh. Never. He's fought for that baby girl every step of the way, and anyway, he's afraid she'd be put in foster care because of the 'breeder boy' issue. Apparently, people steer away from kids carrying that gene because there's still such stigma attached."

"That's just terrible," JJ said. "I mean, I hope he gets to keep his daughter, but it really does sound like he's going to be in an impossible situation. I'm sure he could find loving parents for her, if it comes to that."

"Maybe," Morgan said tiredly. He really wanted to stop thinking about Spencer's dilemma for a little while. Still, he was wondering if Garcia had made any progress when Hotch got a call.

"Hotchner." The team stopped talking and watched pensively as Hotch listened to the caller. To everyone's relief, a slight smile crossed his face, and he finally said, "That's good news. Thank you. I'll let everyone know." He clicked off and then looked up. "A suspect has been brought in on the bombing case. Thanks to Morgan's expertise at identifying an unusual component used in making the devices, and, of course, the team's detective work, one of the clerks we interviewed at a local hardware store was on his toes. He alerted police when a man came in asking to purchase more of the item. They followed him and stopped him on a traffic violation; they had cause to search his car, and found enough evidence to bring him in. Sounds like we've got him." His smile broadened. "Good work, everyone."

A collective sigh of relief went through the group, then everyone congratulated Morgan and each other. They settled in to their meals, chatting and laughing, finally able to relax and enjoy each other's company for a moment after a job well done.

* * *

><p>After dinner, Morgan went to his house to check on things there; he called Garcia and was simply told that she was "working on something," but that she didn't have anything concrete to report, and she refused to tell him what she was up to.<p>

Morgan made a plane reservation to return to Palmer in the morning.

He watched some television, then headed off to his bedroom to sleep. It would be nice to be in his own bed, even for just one night, and he lay there, trying to free his mind and drift off.

But, he still kept thinking of the expression on Spencer's face when he was leaving, the uncertainty along with the determination.

He couldn't imagine that Garcia was coming up with a viable solution, given the circumstances.

Clearly, he'd just have to really push the boy to contact his father and hope that Spencer could be diplomatic enough to ask for financial help, and that some shred of human decency existed in the elder Reid that would allow him to provide it.

* * *

><p>Morgan arrived back at the Palmer County Hospital late in the morning of the following day. He'd stopped to pick up some lunch for Spencer and himself, and was optimistic that the doctor would have a discharge date set for the young man, and that the teen's mood would be positive and upbeat.<p>

But, when Morgan entered Spencer's room, he wasn't there. An orderly walked in carrying clean linen, and Morgan turned to look at him.

"Hey, where's the kid?"

"Aw, he's in a consultation room with that mean blonde lady."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "What mean blonde lady?"

"You know, one of them social workers. She's been giving him hell all morning. I could hear them yelling at each other all the way down the hall."

Just then, Spencer came into the room looking pale and disheveled. He was wearing a robe that Morgan had bought him to wear over his sleep pants and t-shirt, and appeared not to have showered that morning. He had a defiant, stormy expression on his face, but it crumbled when he saw Morgan, and he dissolved into tears.

"Hey," he said gravelly voice.

"Hey-what the hell's going on? Are you all right? Is Sophie-"

"Sophie's fine. It's just..." Spencer paused to grab a tissue, then sank down into one of the hospital room chairs. "That awful woman is trying to talk me into putting her up for adoption."

"What? Why-"

"She claims the Home sent her." Suddenly, Spencer's voice became stronger as his anger resurged. "But, I know for a fact that they can't normally be bothered to follow up with any of the kids after they leave-they couldn't care less once they get us off their hands. So, I know my father's behind this. He's trying to push me, the bastard. I just know it."

"Wait, okay, so what is she saying? What did she tell you?"

"Oh, it was this long diatribe about how I'm 'clearly unequipped to care for my child,' and that it would be a lot better for Sophie if I would give up custody now, while I'd still be able to have some input into who gets to adopt her than to wait until the state comes and takes her away from me. She says she's now my case-worker and that she's going to be there 'every step of the way' if I take Sophie to live with me after she's discharged. She said there'll be regular inspections of the premises, that they'll have access to medical records to monitor her health and growth, and that basically, everything I do, any little mistake I make, will go on record, and according to her, I'll end up losing her anyway."

The tears started up again, and Morgan sat down next to him and squeezed his shoulders. "Now, now, calm down, kiddo. It's going to be okay."

"No, it's not! God, I'm so angry I can't see straight. But... God, Morgan, what if she's right?" Spencer made a slightly strangled sound as he tried to get a hold of himself. After a moment, he continued. "What if she's right? What if I do screw everything up?" He raised his eyes to Morgan's. "Sophie could get hurt. Or, she could be sick and I wouldn't know what to do. I'll never be able to afford a decent place to live, plus quality child care... And, now, knowing that... that... _woman_ will be breathing down my neck, I'll be so nervous... I don't know. I don't know what to do."

Morgan felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach, and he could only imagine how horrible Spencer must be feeling. He gave him a quick but firm hug, then sat back.

"Ok, look. We'll figure something out. Sophie's not going to be ready to leave for at least a few more weeks. Have you heard anything from the doctor about your discharge date?"

"Tomorrow," he said in a small voice.

"Okay, good." Morgan took a deep breath. "So, we've got some time. We'll look into public assistance, we'll look into... everything. For right now, relax. There's nothing you can do about it, and all you're doing is making yourself ill. Look, I brought you some food-"

"I'm not hungry."

"Yeah, I understand." He placed the bag on Spencer's bed tray, and stood up. "Listen-I need to get a little air. I'll be right back. Try not to worry, will you? Everything's going to be fine." He said it with as much sincerity as he could muster, then strode out and took the stairs down to the ground floor.

He walked the grounds, trying to shake off his fury and upset at hearing what the social worker had had to say. He felt so badly for Spencer, and so angry with himself at not being able to help, that he felt he would burst a blood vessel if he didn't calm down. He sat on a bench and watched as a man wheeled his wife and newborn out of the hospital and to a car waiting to take them home. They were happy and smiling, with the air of excitement and optimism that comes with starting a brand new life adventure.

Morgan wished like hell that Spencer could look forward to taking his daughter home feeling like that.

He seriously doubted that would ever happen.

* * *

><p>Garcia wasn't answering her phone.<p>

"Come on, baby girl..." Morgan impatiently drummed his fingers on Spencer's nightstand, but the ringing eventually gave way to voice mail.

Again.

He'd been trying to contact her ever since he'd returned to Spencer's room and found that the boy had gone down to the NICU to feed Sophie. He looked up when the door swung open and a tall blonde woman entered.

She looked around uncertainly and raised an eyebrow at the sight of Morgan sitting beside the empty bed.

"Excuse me-I thought this was Spencer Reid's room."

"Yes, ma'am, it is." Morgan sneered slightly. "You want to rake him over the coals again?" He had no patience for being polite to the social worker, even if she was just following orders.

"I'm sorry?" The woman frowned, puzzled. "'Rake him over the coals...' I don't know what you mean."

"And, all that business about the Home sending you-we both know that's bullshit. Why don't you just admit that William Reid put you up to it?"

_"What?"_

"I know he sent you here to scare the kid with your fear tactics about the government taking his daughter from him!"

The woman stared at him open-mouthed, then she blinked rapidly for a moment. Slowly, she seemed to gather her thoughts, and a fierce look came over her face.

"Oh, no. The government's not taking away my granddaughter. _Over my dead body."_

Now it was Morgan's turn to blink. He stared for a moment. "Excuse me-did you say 'granddaughter?'"

The flash of fury passed and the woman's expression softened. "Yes-I'm Diana Reid, Spencer's mom. I'm here to take him home."

"Home?" Morgan wasn't sure anything was coming out when he spoke, but the woman nodded.

"Yes, to Vegas. I have a nice big apartment there, plenty of room for Spencer and the baby. Although, I may end up buying a house-I'd like for Sophie to have a backyard to play in, and it would be closer to school-"

Morgan stood up and went up to the woman. He searched her face, and realized it was the same face he'd seen in Spencer's photograph back at the Home, just worn and several years older. "My God-you're Spencer's mom!" he said in awe.

"Yes... That's what I said," Diana said, now soundly slightly unnerved. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is, I just-" Morgan laughed. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you-I mean, I never thought-"

"Oh, I know! My ex-husband's done quite a good job exiling me, hasn't he? Thank goodness for Penelope Garcia."

"What?"

"Yes, that's why I'm here-Miss Garcia called me last night and told me everything that's been going on. I couldn't believe it! I knew what had happened to Spencer, the pregnancy, I mean, but William assured me that everything was fine and that I didn't need to worry. I should have known better."

She pursed her lips. "I knew I should have contacted Spencer myself. But, that bastard's been telling me that it upsets Spencer when he hears from me, so I thought I would wait until he called me himself. I should have known something was wrong when I didn't hear from him for so long." She looked devastated, and cast a worried look at Morgan. "Is he okay?"

"Uh-well, he's very upset because he had a visit from a social worker this morning. That's who I mistook you for, that's what I was talking about."

"Oh, and William's sent some government goon to pressure Spencer into giving up the baby?" She huffed in disgust. "He's really just an awful man, I don't know what I ever saw in him. Well, that's not going to happen. Don't worry about that."

Morgan bit his lip, carefully trying to form a question in a diplomatic way. "Ma'am-I'm sorry, but I got the impression from Spencer that you... had some health issues. Are you really going to be able to bring Spencer and Sophie home to live with you?"

Diana laughed. "I'm bi-polar, Agent Morgan, not incompetent. You are Agent Morgan, right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Miss Garcia described you to a 'T.' She was right, you _are_ a bronze Adonis. Anyway, yes, I went through a difficult time a few years ago, and I ended up in a psychiatric facility. But, in time, I recovered, and now, with a good doctor and the right medication, I'm perfectly functional-I teach at the university, I pay my own bills, drive, and I have a cat." She grinned at Morgan with a twinkle in her eye. "I don't blame you for being concerned, but I'm doing very well." She dug in a handbag and pulled out some papers. "I even have a doctor's statement, in case anyone would like to argue the point." She held them out, but Morgan waved them away.

"I'm not the one who needs to see those, ma'am. But it's a good thing you have them, since it sounds like that social worker's going to make things as difficult as possible."

"Oh, I'm well aware of what my ex-husband is capable of. I'm prepared."

"Does Spencer know you're here?"

"No, I just got here. I was so busy making arrangements, I didn't have a chance to contact him ahead of time." A worried look crossed her face. "I hope he'll be glad to see me."

"Of course he will!"

"I don't know... His father told me... He said Spencer didn't want me in his life anymore. I'm fairly certain that's another one of his attempts to manipulate the situation, but-I don't know, it might be a shock for him to see me after so much time has gone by."

"I-" Morgan's response was cut off by the young man in question returning to the room. He walked in looking more tired and defeated than Morgan had ever seen him. When he saw his mother, he stopped cold and stared.

The room was completely silent for a moment, then he said, "Mom?"

Diana smiled around a sudden rush of tears. "Yes, baby. I'm here."

"Oh, Mom!" Spencer ran to her and they wrapped each other in a tight embrace that went on for a long, long moment. Spencer finally pulled back and said, "Mom, everything's a huge mess. They want me to relinquish custody of my daughter, and-"

Diana laid her hand along the side of Spencer's face. "That's not going to happen, son. You and Sophie are coming home with me."

Spencer's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "We are?"

Diana nodded. "Yes, Miss Garcia is making arrangements for a special medical transport so that the baby can travel safely. They'll be expecting her at the hospital back in Vegas."

It took a minute for the words to sink in, then Spencer laughed. He threw himself around his mother again, nearly knocking her over, before saying, "Really? This is really going to happen? But, how? Dad said-"

"What did he say?" Diana asked darkly.

Spencer's face fell and he swallowed hard. "He said you were, uh, crazy."

Diana rolled her eyes and sighed. "Apparently, your father has spun quite a tale for each of us, calculated to keep me out of your life. I'm fine, honey. I have papers to prove it." She grinned and caressed Spencer's face again. "My God, you're thin. We'll have to do something about that. When we get home, I'm going to make you a lasagna that'll knock your socks off."

Spencer smiled and looked at Morgan. "Can you believe it? How... How did all this happen?"

Morgan grinned. "We have a sassy little tech analyst named Penelope Garcia to thank. You haven't met her yet, but she's been in your corner all along, kid. One of these days, we have to get you two together."

"Yeah," Spencer agreed. Exhaustion and excitement suddenly overtook him, and he looked as if he might pass out. Both Morgan and Diana went to him and guided him to the bed and made him lie down.

"You need to rest," Diana said gently. "Just relax and go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Spencer squeezed her hand and smiled, then looked at Morgan. "Morgan, thank you. Thank you for all you've done. Mom, I couldn't have gotten through any of this without Agent Morgan. He's taken care of me all along, and-"

"What the hell is going on in here?" a male voice barked.

The three looked up to see William Reid standing in the doorway.


	18. A Secret

The harsh rasp of William Reid's voice hung in the air as Spencer, Diana and Morgan stared at him, too taken aback to move or speak.

The formerly soothing hum of hospital equipment suddenly became oppressive.

Spencer broke the silence. "Hi, Dad! Look-Mom's here," he said brightly. It was the hopeful tone of a kid trying to smooth things over between his parents before they headed off in a very, very bad direction.

"I can see that." Reid strode in and stood a few feet away from his ex-wife, then leaned in and jabbed his forefinger at her. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Diana pulled herself up to her full statuesque height and took a step forward, purposely crowding Reid's personal space. "I came to take my son and granddaughter home with me, where they belong. You have a problem with that?"

Reid gave an dry laugh. "No, not at all. Considering that Child Protective Services will be on you like a duck on water before you can even make it off of this floor, I'm perfectly fine with you creating a spectacle of yourself. As usual." His burst of amusement passed and he gave Diana a steely glare. "You're sick, darling, remember? The last time I saw you, you couldn't even feed yourself."

A grim smile crossed her face. "Well, that's what happens when one takes an overdose of barbiturates in an attempt to escape the soul-sucking bastard that stole away her life. But, I'm much better now." Diana unflinchingly met Reid's glare head-on. "In fact, I'm great. And, there's nothing you can do to stop me. Not anymore."

"Still thinking of no one but yourself, eh? Look, I'm going to say this just one more time._ I_ know what's best for Spencer. I love him. I'm looking out for him, not just for the moment, but for his future." He turned his gaze to his son. "I know this is hard, but I just spoke to your case worker. She completely agrees with me about the baby." He went to Spencer's side and put a hand gently on his shoulder. "As I've said all along, you need to give her up, son. It's what's best."

Spencer's worried expression morphed sharply into a scowl, and he brushed away his father's hand. "Don't touch me! You're only concerned about what's best for you! You don't care about me at all-"

"Spence-" Morgan said softly. He didn't want the boy to get worked up all over again-he looked as if he were barely hanging on as it was. But Spencer sat up straighter and gestured angrily at his father.

"No, it's true! He's never cared about what I want- or even what I need!-all he cares about is becoming a senator someday." Hot tears sprang into Spencer's eyes as he held the senior Reid's gaze, and his voice dropped to a low hiss. "You took my mother away-and now, you're trying to do the same to Sophie. Well, I'm not going to let you do it, no matter what."

"Sh, sh, Spencer, it's okay." Diana went to stand next to the bed. "Nothing's going to happen to Sophie. She's coming home with us." She grabbed Reid's arm and pulled him away from Spencer's side. "Now, let's get something straight. I'm here to take custody of my son and granddaughter. We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. The easy way means you back off and leave us alone, and I'll do the same for you. The hard way means some ugly publicity for an aspiring senatorial candidate is going to come out and be splashed all over the Boston papers."

Morgan stayed beside Spencer's bed, but he was watching and listening intently. He saw Diana raise her brow and give Reid a shrewd tip of her head; he saw a nasty sneer cross Reid's face as he zeroed in on her with narrowed eyes.

"Do you seriously think I'm afraid of you? Or ever will be? You can say anything you want, to whomever you want. Who's going to believe the ravings of a crazy woman?"

Diana took the time to casually push up the sleeves of her sweater, clearly savoring the moment. "Well. I suspect lot of people will, considering I now have hard evidence of... everything."

Reid's face paled. He blinked, and stammered, "Wh-what? What do you mean?"

"You know, I'm not very tech-savvy. Never was. But, there are people who are. And, for them, the internet holds a world of information. It's just there for the taking." She again dug in her handbag and brought out a piece of paper. "Like this, for instance." She unfolded it and handed it to Reid, then stepped back, crossing her arms in satisfaction as he brought it up and read it. He stared at it then looked at her, his mouth hanging open.

"Where... Where the hell did you get this?"

"Oh, I didn't. A friend of mine did, that and more. Seems I'm no longer the only one who knows all about your little secret. Well, secrets." Diana took a step forward, and spoke in a tone so low that Morgan had to strain to hear what she was saying. _"Don't fuck with me, William._ If you give me one iota of trouble, everything will come out, and it'll be all over Boston, maybe the whole country. Do you understand?"

The man's neck was red and he was visibly having to control himself. But after a few moments, he spat, "Yes."

"Good. Now, here's what's going to happen. My son, granddaughter, and I are going to go home. You're going to butt the hell out of our lives, except for sending a monthly child support check, the amount of which I'm sure we can come to an agreement upon without having to go to court, don't you think?"

Reid nodded numbly.

"I thought so." Her smile deepened. "Aside from that, and unless you suddenly wake up one morning and realize what an ass you've been, you're going to forget you ever had a son. I hope he can do the same. Now, get out."

Reid's barely-contained fury appeared about to boil over. His face was contorted in an ugly sneer, and he hissed, "You... bitch. You crazy, insane bitch. I-"

Morgan was by Diana's side in an instant. "Enough. You heard the lady. She wants you out." There was a tense pause as Reid appeared determined to hold his ground. Morgan took a step forward, bringing him chest to chest with the older man, fixing Reid with a look that promised him serious bodily harm. "I'd suggest you go."

Reid's eyes flashed and for a moment he looked as though he was ready to take on the muscular agent. But, Morgan's solid presence and unwavering glare quickly extinguished that thought, and his shoulders sagged as his resolve waned. Breathing hard, he stared at the floor for a long moment. When he finally spoke, he had a defeated air about him.

"All right." He looked at Diana. "If I do as you say, you'll keep quiet? I have your word?"

"Of course. I don't give a crap about your political aspirations, William, but I suppose politics is just the right place for a bastard like you. As long as you stick to our agreement, there won't be a peep out of me. Or anyone else. I promise."

He nodded curtly and turned as if to leave. But, he paused at the door. Morgan went up to him to block his way back into the room; Reid gave him a pleading look.

"I just want to say goodbye to my son."

Morgan questioningly glanced back at Spencer; the boy nodded. Morgan stepped aside and Reid went to Spencer's bedside.

Father and son looked at one another, searching each other's eyes for something that neither of them found. Reid finally spoke.

"I can't believe this is happening... I was looking forward to us being together again. I'm sorry, son. I love you. I just... I only ever just wanted what's best for you. I guess you'll never believe that, but it's true." He sighed and thrust his hands in his pockets. Then, a shred of cockiness seemed to return. "If you come to your senses-and I'm betting you will, once you get back on your feet and realize what you've gotten yourself into-call me. You can always come home."

Spencer gave a cynical huff. "I can come home. Just me, right? Not my daughter?"

Reid shook his head slightly. "It wouldn't... work out."

"Believe it or not, I love you too, Dad. Maybe one of these days you'll get sick of those Boston winters and take a trip to Vegas. If you do, give me a call... We can meet somewhere on the Strip." He gave a bitter smile. "Don't worry. If there are photographers around, we'll pretend we don't know each other."

Reid took a deep breath as if he were going to say something, but then he turned and strode past Morgan standing protectively at the foot of the bed.

He left without looking at anyone or saying another word.

The three in the room each felt a rush of relief come over them. Diana went and hugged Spencer; Morgan took in the sight for a moment, then quietly slipped out of the room.

The two had some catching up to do, and Morgan wanted to give them their privacy.

And anyway, he had to make travel arrangements back to Quantico.

* * *

><p>The next afternoon, Morgan met Spencer, Diana and Sophie at the Palmer airport. The baby was being specially handled with her medical equipment and a nurse in tow to ensure her health on the flight to Vegas. Morgan watched as Spencer reached into her carrier and disentangled her from the monitors and oxygen line.<p>

He picked her up, still able to comfortably cradle her in one hand. With the other he gently ran a finger over her soft cheek. "My sweet little girl. We're going home, Sophie! I can't wait 'til you're free of these needles and tubes for good." He brought her to his lips and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I love you so much, baby. We're going to have so much fun, you and me and your Nana."

The baby opened her blue eyes and gurgled and excitedly squirmed at her father's touch.

Diana grinned at the sight. "She's saying, 'I love you too, Daddy.'"

Spencer laughed and looked at Morgan. "You want to say goodbye to her?"

"Sure. Hand her over."

Morgan took the tiny infant he'd grown so fond of and looked deeply into her eyes. He would have sworn she recognized him, raising a little hand as if to touch his face. "Bye, baby girl. You be good for your daddy and grandma. Get big. I can't wait to hear you talk to me on the phone." He gently gave her a kiss, then returned her to Spencer, who laid her back in her carrier.

Once she was repositioned for travel, Spencer went up to Morgan.

"Well-I guess this is it, huh?" he asked softly.

"Yep. Gonna miss you, youngster."

"I'll miss you, too." Spencer shyly moved toward him; Morgan enveloped him in a suffocating bear hug.

"Be careful, Spence. Let me hear from you every now and then."

Spencer clung to him, holding on a little longer than Morgan had expected him to. Then he leaned back, smiling excitedly. "Oh, definitely! I'll send you lots of pictures, too. I'll call you when we get there, and I'll let you know when school starts and everything. I'm going to major in engineering and minor in psychology, but-" Suddenly, he paused and bit his lip before continuing. "But, someday... I think I might want to work for the FBI." He looked at Morgan, wanting to see if he'd laugh at the idea of the skinny kid going into the agency, but Morgan merely nodded approvingly.

"That'd be great-we could use a smart guy like you." He reluctantly let go and stepped away from him. Spencer's smiled faded.

"Man... This is so weird. What am I going to do without you? I know we haven't know each other that long, but..." He raised wistful eyes to Morgan's. "I'm really going to miss having you around."

Morgan nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I kind of got used to having you around, too. But, we'll be seeing each other soon, I bet. I love Vegas."

Spencer laughed. "Yeah? Well, I'm pretty good at cards. When I'm older, maybe we can clean up at the casinos together."

"Yeah-and, I need to introduce you to Penelope. If she doesn't get to meet that baby soon, she's going to explode."

"Well, any time. Oh, wow, I think they're getting ready to board. Mom, do you have everything?"

"Yes, son. All set. Agent Morgan, I can't thank you enough for everything you've done."

"It was my pleasure-Spencer's an amazing kid. He's got a fantastic future ahead of him. I sure hope everything works out for the three of you." Morgan shook her hand, but she pulled him into a hug before picking up a travel bag.

"Please let Miss Garcia know how grateful I am for everything she did, too. I'd like to send her something as a thank-you-what does she like?"

"Well, I hear she's partial to chocolate chip muffins. The big ones, not the teensy kind."

Diana laughed. "I'll whip up a batch. I'll be baking a lot anyway-I've got to fatten up my son."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Morgan watched as they made their way to the gate and waved as they headed out of sight. He sighed, feeling suddenly relieved, but let-down and bereft all at the same time. He stared after them, then turned to find his own gate.

He had a plane to catch himself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ok, loves! One more chapter to come-we'll find out William's secret, and whether Morgan will stay in touch with Spencer! Reviews are treasured!**

**Love,**

**Seds**


	19. Home

**A/N: Ok, so I don't know how many more chapters are to come. I'm so indecisive! At least one more after this... Anyway, in this chapter we learn William Reid's big secret... Hope you like, please review! Love, love, love you all.**

* * *

><p>After boarding the plane to Vegas and taking his seat next to Diana, Spencer held Sophie as the nurse set up the neonatal care equipment. Sophie was now big enough that he could actually cuddle her, and he let her nuzzle into his neck; she seemed to like his warmth, his scent, and she made a soft, barely perceptible baby noise as she settled her cheek against her father's skin.<p>

Diana smiled at the sight of her son and his baby. She'd missed him so much; the ache of losing him had weighted her soul every day since that dark time when she'd woken up in a hospital psych ward.

She'd hated being there, hated the pills and the intrusive questions from a battery of doctors, hated the so-called therapy. But, she'd had to make a decision-whether to embrace their efforts to save her, or to allow herself to sink lower into the depths of her crippling depression and fade away.

The thought that, someday, she'd get her son back made the decision for her. She would work her ass off to get well, and when things were back on track, she'd fight for him, do whatever she had to do to make it happen. It had taken far longer than she'd expected, and then when she was back on her feet, her ex-husband seemed determined to thwart her at every turn. Funny how things work out; if her poor son hadn't gone through this dreadful trauma, she would probably still be floundering, trying to figure out a way to reach him.

Diana wasn't a religious woman, but she couldn't shake the feeling that a force greater than herself had been at work. She chuckled inwardly; that force had clearly taken the form of an angel named Penelope Garcia. She sincerely hoped they'd have a chance to meet soon.

She glanced back at Spencer and was thrilled to see the untroubled expression on his face.

"You look happy," she said.

Spencer smiled and nodded. "I am. I never thought that I'd... I was so scared, Mom. Thank you for coming, thank you for taking me and Sophie home with you."

"I've never been happier, sweetie. Being with you is all I ever really wanted."

"It's so great to be with you again. I missed you." Spencer's smile deepened, then faded.

"What?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"Nothing. It's just that I wish Agent Morgan could have gone with us to see where we're going to live and everything." He sighed, and dropped his gaze. "But, I know that's ridiculous. He's already given up so much of his time to take care of us... I just wish he could see something nice happening for me, for a change."

Diana studied his face, and a light dawned. "You like him, don't you?" she asked gently.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, of course. He's wonderful."

"No, Spencer, I mean-you _like_ him." She lifted his chin, then brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes and gave him an understanding smile. "A mother can tell these things."

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, I guess I have a bit of a crush on him. It's okay, though, I'll get over it. He's just so... He's such a good guy, you know? I'm going to miss him so much."

Diana patted his arm. "Don't worry, love, you'll meet someone closer to your own age once you get into college. I understand how you feel-having a crush on someone older than you is part of growing up-but, it's better this way. You're starting a whole new life, and I bet you'll forget all about him once your classes start."

Spencer closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in the delicious scent of his tiny daughter. "I'll never forget him," he murmured into her blanket. Diana pursed her lips, but let it drop. She knew a mom couldn't tell a love-sick teenager anything.

She opened a magazine and settled in for the long flight home.

* * *

><p>"All right, Miss Techno-Wizard, spill it."<p>

A few days later, Morgan was back at home, taking one last day of vacation to get things in order at his house-and in his mind. His emotions were running riot in a way he just wasn't accustomed to, and he'd needed a little time to ground himself before throwing himself back into his work.

But now, just a few days after being swept up in the activity and the almost constant presence of other people back in Palmer, the silence of his empty house had finally gotten to him. Besides, certain questions were nagging at him and there was only one person he could ask about them.

So, he'd called Garcia and whisked her off to dinner.

Garcia popped a forkful of salad into her mouth and blinked innocently. "Spill what?"

"Everything! What have we just been talking about? For instance, did William Reid kill somebody or what? What was his big secret?"

"Oh, baby, do you really think I'd let that big jerk get away with something like that? No way. Listen, why don't we start at the beginning?" She beamed smugly. "Don't you want to know how I came to contact Diana Reid in the first place?"

"Well, yeah, now that you mention it. Tell me."

"Okay. See, I just knew Spencer had to have some relative somewhere who could take him and the baby, but I thought anyone associated with William might be problematic. No big deal, I thought, the kid's got a whole other set of relatives-perhaps his mom's side of the family had some nice grandma or auntie that would be a sucker for him and his baby.

"Then, it occurred to me that I didn't even know for sure why his mom was out of the picture! So, I started snooping. I found out that she was a professor of literature at the university, and I thought, 'If she can do that, how bad could she be?' Well, I went through her medical records and discovered she was fine! So... I contacted her." Garcia giggled slightly, then went back to her salad.

Morgan suppressed a grin. "So, how many laws did you break, coming to that conclusion?"

"Not that many, but they were biggies."

"Talking federal time, are we?"

"Uh-huh."

"I figured. So, anyway-"

"So, anyway, I had to do some fancy footwork to convince Diana that I wasn't some creepy government cossack trying to send her back to the loony-bin-her words, mind you-but once she was comfortable with me, she told me an amazing story."

"Which was?"

"Now, just a minute, smart guy. In doing my research, I found out some stuff even Diana doesn't know."

"About what?" Morgan asked, puzzled.

"About what came to be called the Breeder Boy Program! This is all top-secret, real hush-hush stuff." Garcia looked around, then shot Morgan a look. "In fact, I don't even know if I should tell _you."_

"I got clearance! You can tell me anything."

"Well, okay, but you gotta keep it quiet."

"Don't worry."

"Okay." Garcia pushed away her salad and began buttering a dinner roll as she collected her thoughts. "Let's go back to Germany, 1942. It seems technology was developed by the Nazis with the intention of creating a super-soldier, one with immense endurance and strength. The key was accelerated muscular regeneration, which was to be accomplished by splicing male and female DNA together. Because, you know, women are tough, what with giving birth and all that."

Garcia peered at Morgan and he nodded, pretending that that made sense. Garcia continued.

"It all looked really promising at first. Promising enough that the head doctor, a young genius named Peter Schaffer, got scared that the Nazis might actually win the war. He was in no way a Nazi sympathizer, but he'd been coerced into working with the regime by threats against his sister, Anja, who was being watched by the government due to having been involved in subversive activities at one of the universities. You follow?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, eventually, Peter managed to take Anja and escape to the US, where he asked for asylum for the two of them. In exchange, he promised to help the US Defense Department work up their own version of the program, which they agreed to do.

"They experimented on hundreds of soldiers before they discovered that the improved muscular regeneration was short-lived. It was an expensive program, and by that time the war had turned a corner, so they just abandoned it. No harm, no foul, right? They sealed the records-well, to mortal men, anyway, not to me-and everyone soon forgot about it."

"You are one scary mama. Go on, what happened next?"

"Did I forget to mention that young Peter was gay?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, he was. And, in late 1945, Peter Schaffer found himself in an... unanticipated situation." She went back to leisurely buttering her bread and after a moment, Morgan made an impatient gesture.

"Which was?"

Garcia took a bite and chewed for dramatic effect before saying, "He was pregnant."

Morgan's eyebrows shot up. "Wait a minute. You mean-he'd been experimenting on himself?"

Garcia nodded. "He was the first one to undergo the procedure. Can you imagine? But, anyway, soon after that, more guys were coming home from the war and turning up pregnant. It didn't take long to figure out that they were the ones who'd been involved in the genetic experiments."

"God."

"I know! Well, anyway, poor Peter couldn't deal with knowing he'd been responsible for creating this... anomaly. He had the baby, but soon after, he disappeared. His sister had married an American man by then and she and her husband took the baby to raise as their own. They named him... William."

"William." Morgan stared. "What was his last name?"

Garcia smirked. "Reid."

"Oh, jeeze. William Reid's father was... a Nazi?"

"No, no, he never bought into their ideology, but from a PR point of view, it didn't matter. The family knew he'd be painted as a Nazi in the press, and a gay one at that. And, of course, he really was ultimately responsible for bringing the breeder boys into the world."

"Whoa."

"Exactly. So, they basically created new identities for Peter and Anja, and put the kibosh on talking about any of it."

Morgan pondered for a moment. "So, what happened to Schaffer?"

"No one knows for sure, but a few months later, a man fitting his description was found in a cheap motel room along Highway 66 with his brains blown out. They never definitively ID'd him-ironically, this was before it was possible to use DNA for identification purposes-but everyone in the family assumed it was Peter."

"Wow." Morgan drummed his fingers on the table for a moment, then looked up. "So, William carries the breeder boy gene, too, huh?"

"Yup. But, guess what-and here's where Diana's story comes to light-his parents never told him anything about his father. In fact, he didn't even know his mom wasn't his mom-that he didn't really _have_ a mom-until after Spencer was born."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, they managed to keep it a secret. Then, baby Spencer came along, and apparently, suffered a bout of illness when he was little. They were having him tested for various genetic illnesses-he was fine, by the way, it was just an infection-but in the process, it was discovered that he had the breeder-boy gene. William went nuts; he blamed Diana, assuming she was a carrier, and somewhere in the confusion, his mother admitted the truth to him."

"He must have lost his shit."

"Oh, yeah. He was already planning his political career, and you can imagine how all that would look to prospective voters. Diana said he was never the same after that. Apparently, he turned all this self-hatred toward her and the stress sent her into a depressive phase of her illness. He never did anything to help her, in fact, he seemed happy to get her out of his life. Having her committed meant that she couldn't use the story of his parentage against him in a political race, so..."

"He did everything he could to send her over the edge."

"Yeah. By the time it was all said and done, Diana was beaten down and she agreed to stay away from Spencer until he was older."

"I'd like to have William Reid in a room for just a few minutes..." Morgan said tightly, punching his open palm with his fist.

"I know. Me, too," Garcia agreed darkly.

"Poor Spencer."

"Yeah, but now he has a chance to start over with someone who really loves him, and to be a daddy to his little girl. Pretty good way to end up, huh?"

Morgan smiled slowly. "Yeah. He's going to be okay."

They were quiet for a while, then Garcia put a hand on his. "Of course he is. But... how about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't pretend, Derek. You know what I mean."

Morgan cast his gaze away from her and rolled his head as if to work out a kink in his neck. Finally, he looked at her again.

"I'm fine."

"Really?"

Morgan took a deep breath. "Really. I mean... Yeah, I miss him. I guess I always will. But I did the right thing, letting him go. Now he has a chance to do what he wants with his life, to grow up and find his own way. I'm real happy about that."

Garcia gave him a sad smile. "You're my hero, you know that?"

"Well, you're mine, baby girl."

They ate in silence for a while, then Garcia looked up. "Anyway, it's not as if you were never going to see him again," she continued as if there hadn't been a break in the conversation.

Morgan looked up, chewed thoughtfully, and then shrugged. "No, I'm sure I will, someday. Maybe I'll go to his college graduation, or-"

"No, no! I mean, like, soon. You'll be seeing him soon." Garcia smiled brightly, and Morgan frowned.

"No, I won't. I'm just about to get back to work, and anyway, I don't have any reason to-"

"Oh, you have a reason." Garcia fumbled in her purse, then pulled out a flight itinerary to Las Vegas and handed it to him. It was dated for two weeks from that day and had both their names on it. Morgan looked up.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's, uh, a weekend getaway to Vegas for... us." She waited a moment, but Morgan didn't say anything, just sat there with his eyes boring into her. She swallowed, then continued cheerily. "Don't worry, it's for Friday night through Sunday, so we won't miss any work."

"Garcia-"

"I cleared it with Hotch."

"Garcia, I-"

"He thought it was a good idea-closure, and all that kind of thing."

"Garcia! Forget it, I am not going!"

"But-"

Morgan pursed his lips for a moment before speaking. "Do you know how hard it was for me to say goodbye to them? Not just to Spencer, but to that baby? And, you want me to open up the wound again, two weeks from now? You must be trippin'."

Garcia put her hand on his and squeezed. "Aw, I know, but don't you want to see the happy ending for yourself? Besides, I haven't even gotten to meet them! Come on, sweetie, please? I want to meet Spencer and Sophie and Diana! And, I don't want to go alone. You have to go-you have to be there to introduce us!"

"No. Not gonna happen."

Garcia pouted, then a sly look came across her face. "But, don't you need to check in on them? You know, to make sure they're really doing okay? It's a big change for everyone. Lots of emotional upheaval. It can be stressful, right?" She leaned forward and caught Morgan's eye.

"Plus, you need to check that William Reid's not up to any funny stuff, don't you? He was pretty mad when he left. Who knows what kind of crap he might try to pull?" She let the last item drop like a bomb, then sat back and watched as Morgan grimaced. He took a deep, defeated breath and fixed her with a malevolent stare.

"You... You little monster. You really know how to play me, don't you?"

Garcia grinned. "Like a cheap piano, baby."

"Nice. All right, fine, I give up. You win. I'll go."

"Oh, yay! Thank you, gorgeous. We're going to have a great time!" Garcia clapped her hands and bounced in her seat.

Morgan began absently picking at his meal. His mind was already back in chaos at the thought of seeing Spencer again. But, there was no denying that he was excited.

Garcia was going on about needing a new outfit appropriate for a weekend in Vegas, and about how much fun they were going to have hitting the casinos together. "I can't wait!" she squealed.

An image of Spencer holding Sophie crossed Morgan's mind, and he smiled ruefully.

_Me either,_ he thought. _Me, either._


	20. Remembering the Words

**A/N: Well, loves, this is the last chapter. I really hope you like it. I do intend to do a "Part 2" at some point, but I want to work on some other stuff for a while. I may go ahead and do an epilogue in which I will give you a hint of the new story line and let you know what it will be called, but this is the end of this time period for our guys. I really appreciate all the kind reviews, all the faves and alerts, and all of you for reading. Thank you!**

**Seds**

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, Garcia and Morgan's plane landed at the Las Vegas airport. They picked up a rental car and headed for the local hospital to meet Spencer and Diana in time for visiting hours in the Neonatal ICU. Morgan drove; after a while, it occurred to him that Garcia was being uncharacteristically quiet, and he glanced over at her. He saw she was drumming her fingers on the door handle and staring out the passenger side window.<p>

"What's the matter with you, babe? You look nervous."

"Oh-I guess I am. I've never met a, you know, preemie person before."

Morgan chuckled. "She's not going to burst into flames or anything. She's just a baby; a little on the small side, but still a baby."

"I know that, but what if I drop her, or pull out a tube or something? I'd never forgive myself."

"You won't-it'll be fine. Just relax!"

Garcia sat back and continued to mull over her concerns. After a moment, her eyes widened and she said, "Hey, what if the outfit I bought her doesn't fit?"

"She'll grow into it."

"But, what if she's allergic to Argyle?" Garcia gestured at a large stuffed teddy bear riding in the back seat.

"'Argyle?' That's what you named that thing?"

"Yeah. After the production manager on 'I Love Lucy.'"

"I-Penelope, stop worrying. She's in a hospital. No one's going to let you mess up, even if you could, which I doubt."

"Oh, I don't know. I was babysitting for a friend once, and the kid ate a peanut."

Morgan cast a look at her. "And? Was he allergic?"

"Well, no, but I rushed him to the emergency room just in case, and my friend came home early and freaked out. It wasn't pretty."

Morgan gave up trying to comfort her, and was very happy when they rounded a corner and the hospital come into view, putting an end to Garcia's free-floating anxiety.

Once inside, they got directions and found their way to Sophie.

"Knock, knock." Morgan opened the door and felt a little leap of excitement at seeing Spencer. The teen was seated in a rocking chair cradling Sophie. His eyes were locked on her small face, and a broad smile had transformed his own into a sunny vision that belied his recent traumas. Diana was leaning against the crib, beaming. They both looked up when their visitors came in.

"Oh, Morgan-you're here! And, wow-this must be Miss Garcia!" Spencer happily shifted the baby to one arm, stood up, and strode over to meet them. He grinned at Morgan, and stuck his hand out to Garcia. She ignored it, dropped her bag of presents and threw her arms around him and Sophie.

"Oh, my gosh, Spencer-I feel like I know you already! Look at you, you're such a cutie-pie! And, this baby-oh, my God, she's adorable!" Garcia promptly divested Spencer of the little bundle and carried her over to the rocking chair, all fears forgotten. She stared at her, clearly intent on absorbing every feature of her tiny face.

"It's nice to meet you, too." Spencer laughed, then turned to Morgan. "Hey-it's good to see you," he said shyly. He leaned in to give Morgan an awkward hug. Morgan turned it into a big bear hug, then did the same to Diana.

Morgan looked Spencer up and down. He was still way too thin and still carried the drawn look of someone who'd recently been through major surgery, but his color was healthy and he looked happy.

"Damn, kid, your mama must be feeding you good, you look great."

"I feel really good. I've been sleeping a lot, and I'm beginning to get some energy back."

"Yeah, well, you're going to need it, once that little one comes home."

"I know! I can't wait."

"Neither can I," Diana said. "It's been so long since I've had an infant to care for. Spencer grew up so darn fast-I'm really looking forward to another opportunity to baby someone."

Garcia suddenly squealed in delight. "Oh, my God! She opened her eyes!"

Spencer grinned. "She started doing that a lot just lately. It's funny, all the little things we take for granted are so exciting with a new baby, especially a preemie."

Abruptly, Garcia stood up, went over to Spencer and peered intently from him to Sophie and then back again.

"Uh-what?" he asked, sounding disconcerted.

"Oh, nothing. I was just noticing that you have brown eyes, but hers are this intense blue. Weird, huh?"

A shadow crossed Spencer's face and he shifted uncomfortably. "No, not really. Her, uh... The other parent has blue eyes. In such a situation, there's a fifty-fifty chance that the child will have blue eyes too." The room fell silent for a moment and Garcia blinked, not sure what the awkwardness was all about. Then, realization dawned, and she gasped.

"Oh! Spencer, I'm sorry, I mean, I didn't-"

"It's okay. Excuse me everyone, I, uh, need to go to the bathroom." With that, Spencer turned and darted out of the room, leaving the three to look at each other uncertainly.

After a long moment, Morgan cleared his throat. "I think I'll go check on him. Be right back." He stepped out into the hall and headed for the guest area. He found Spencer clutching a railing by the window, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped. Morgan came up and stood beside him.

"Hey, kid. Garcia didn't mean anything-she wasn't thinking, you know?"

"I'm not upset with her," Spencer said softly. He looked up and Morgan saw tears welling up in his eyes. "It's just that it suddenly hit me-I'll always see things in Sophie that'll remind me of _him._ Her eyes, some little mannerism, the way she'll say something, how she'll stand or walk. It'll be like he's in there, in _her,_ forever, and I... I love her so much, but I don't know-what if I subconsciously respond to that? What if I... What if I end up resenting her for something that isn't her fault?"

"Ah, no, come on now. I'm not saying it might not bother you once in a while. That'd be normal. But, you're too smart to let it become a problem. If it did, you'd get help." Morgan tipped Spencer's chin up and searched his eyes. "Wouldn't you?" he asked pointedly.

"I guess." Spencer pulled away and looked down at his hands, flexing them on the rail. "But, it'll always be a reminder of my own foolishness. I've tried so hard to forget everything that happened before-how stupid and trusting I was." Spencer's voice became hard. "How I fell for everything he said, thinking he cared for me when he was just using me. How... How I would have done anything for him. Then, he took my choice away and forced me... He turned something wonderful and good into something disgusting. I hate him for that. I hate him, and I hate myself for falling for his promises."

Abruptly, Spencer laughed. "Promises, right. _'Promises of paradise...'"_

Morgan frowned, puzzled. The phrase sounded familiar. "Huh?"

Spencer sighed, then began reciting.

_"'With a time-rusted compass blade_

_Aladdin and his lamp_

_Sits with Utopian hermit monks_

_Side-saddle on the Golden Calf_

_And on their promises of paradise_

_You will not hear a laugh_

_All except inside the Gates of Eden*'"_

He shook his head and looked back at Morgan. "My mother used to play Bob Dylan songs for me when I was little, if you can imagine. I remember all the words. Some of them... come back to haunt me. It's as if he were singing about my life."

Morgan thought about the lyrics Spencer quoted and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I get it." He took a deep breath. "Carl Buford... He told me about all the wonderful things that would happen for me, what a great future I had, if only I would trust him, if only I would let him 'help' me. But, it's like you say. He just wanted to use me. And, I let him. I... let him."

They looked at each other, each seeing his own pain reflected in the other's eyes. After a moment Spencer's expression softened, and he smiled. "But, look at you now. You're strong, not just physically, but on the inside. You're doing good work. You took that betrayal and turned it into a source of power. I want to do that, too. I want to be like you, Derek. Maybe someday... Maybe someday I will be."

Morgan squeezed his eyes shut, choked back a sob, and waited until he could speak normally to say, "You're a good kid. You'll grow up to be a good, strong man. You're already an amazing daddy to your little girl. Don't worry, Spence. You and Sophie are going to be okay. I don't have a shred of doubt about that."

Spencer's smile faded, replaced by a tentative frown. "So... you'll be there if I need you? To talk, or something? My mom's great, but... She wouldn't understand, not like you do. You know?"

"Yeah. Of course. You can call me anytime-don't even hesitate."

"Okay." Spencer straightened up and pushed his hair out of his face, and after a moment he perked up. "You can call me, too. If you ever want to talk about... stuff."

The youth's kindness almost sent Morgan into another emotional spasm, but he clamped a hand on the back of Spencer's neck and managed to say, "You bet I will." He gave him a reassuring squeeze, then added, "Well, we'd better go see what's going on back in the room. I've got to put a stop to Garcia hogging that baby-I want to hold her, too!"

Spencer laughed and they walked back to the NICU, each one feeling a little lighter than he had in a very long time.

* * *

><p>It was the last day of their Vegas weekend, and Morgan and Garcia were at Diana's apartment. She was pouring coffee for her guests, following a tour of what was now her and Spencer's home. They'd gotten to see the bedroom she'd made into a whimsical nursery for her granddaughter, and also Spencer's room. In addition to a bed and dresser, it was furnished with a large desk, a good quality microscope, a comfy chair, and it was lined with bookshelves, most of which were already nearly filled up.<p>

Morgan thought if he were a teenage boy he'd hate a room like that, but Spencer obviously loved it and felt completely at home in it. Morgan had to admit that it suited him to a T. He felt a swell of gratitude and appreciation for Diana Reid; she really had made every effort to make her son as comfortable and secure as possible in his new home.

Diana pushed a pitcher of cream toward Garcia, and said, "Sophie's doing so well, the doctor thinks she may get to come home before Spencer starts school."

"That's wonderful!" Garcia poured a little cream into her cup. "The nursery is absolutely perfect."

"Thank you. I had great fun picking out little girl things. I know it's a bit of an indulgence, but I have to admit-decorating with pink and violet is a lot more fun than blue."

"My childhood bedroom was dark green," Spencer said, wrinkling his nose slightly.

"Yes, dear, I didn't want to impose too much in the way of traditional gender bias on you, but your father wouldn't let me get away with pastels. And, Sophie can have any color she wants when she gets old enough to care."

"Speaking of Spencer's dad-he hasn't been causing any trouble, has he?" Morgan asked.

"No, not a peep. He already sent the first child support check. I think he's going to be fine, judging by the fact that his campaign for the Senate seat is well under way. He won't do anything to rock the boat in the foreseeable future."

They chatted and laughed, and the afternoon passed more quickly than any of them would have liked. Morgan eventually checked the time and sighed. "Baby girl, we need to make book if we're going to catch our plane."

"Oh, darn it, I know. This was so nice, Diana. It was so great, getting to meet you and Spencer-and Sophie! You'll send me pictures, right?"

"Constantly. The marvels of the digital age..." Diana shook her head in wonder and began gathering cups and saucers. Garcia helped her, and the ladies disappeared into the kitchen.

Morgan stood up, as did Spencer. They stood facing each other, momentarily unable to put thoughts into words.

"Saying goodbye to you just keeps getting harder," Spencer finally said. He bit his lip and stared down at the floor.

Oh, God, Morgan thought. He didn't want this. Knowing the kid had feelings for him, too, didn't help anything; in fact, it just made everything worse. He began digging in his pockets for his keys, and said in a business-like tone, "Well, I'm just a phone call away if you need anything, you know that. But, you'll be focused on school in just a bit-think about it, you're going to be in college! You'll be going to class, making new friends, doing all kinds of fun stuff." He looked up and saw a heartbreakingly bleak look on Spencer's face. He stepped forward and put his hands on Spencer's shoulders.

"Hey, look at me."

Spencer raised his eyes and held Morgan's gaze. "What?"

"You need to try being a teenager for a change. I know you have a baby, but your mom's going to help you, so don't let yourself miss out on this part of your life entirely. I mean it, kid-you'll never be fifteen again, and you need to enjoy it as much as possible. Okay?"

Spencer shrugged. "I'm not going to fit in very well, being younger than most of the other students. That on top of, well, everything else that's different about me."

"You'll do fine." When Spencer's sad look didn't diminish, Morgan added, "You know you're going to meet someone closer to your own age, right? Someone special-someone you have a chance of a future with?"

Spencer made a dismissive sound. "I doubt that."

"You will. Just-give yourself a break, that's all I'm saying."

Spencer seemed about to respond, but just then his mother and Garcia came back from the kitchen.

"Well, we'd better go, right, choco-hunk?" Garcia asked Morgan.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Just a second. I have something for you, Penelope." Diana handed Garcia a white cardboard box. Garcia looked at her questioningly.

"Homemade chocolate chip muffins. I hear they're your favorite. These are the big ones, not the teensy kind."

"Ooo, yummy! Thank you so much!" Garcia said delightedly. Then she shot Morgan a dark look. "This doesn't let you off the hook, though. You owe me." Morgan rolled his eyes, but nodded.

Diana continued, "And, Spencer, didn't you have something you wanted to ask our friends here?"

Spencer brightened. "Oh, yeah. Morgan, Miss Garcia-I was wondering if you'd agree to be Sophie's godparents."

The two just stood there for a moment, and Spencer rushed on. "It's okay if you don't want to-I mean, don't feel obligated, although you won't really have to do anything, it's largely just a symbolic gesture since Mom and I aren't religious, but-"

"We'd love to!" Morgan and Garcia said in unison.

Spencer looked from one to the other, then smiled. "Really? Wow, that's great. Thank you."

"It'd be an honor," Morgan said gently. "Okay. Come on, baby girl, we need to go for real now."

"All right. Well, bye! Pictures, don't forget, godmothers get lots of pictures! And, I'll send her a savings bond every birthday, that's what my godmother did for me, and-" Garcia's voice trailed off as Morgan led her out of the apartment and down the stairs.

Spencer looked at his mother and grinned. She smiled back, then put her arms around him and gave him a hug.

"You have good friends, son."

"I know. I guess I'm pretty lucky, all things considered."

Diana looked into his eyes. "We both are. Now, come on. If we hurry, we can get back to the hospital in time for Sophie's five o'clock feeding."

The two of them gathered their things and headed out the door. Spencer couldn't wait to get back to his daughter-Sophie was already so much a part of him that he felt a rhythm that matched her own even when he was away from her, and he knew she was just starting to get hungry.

He rode beside his mother in her sensible sedan, and his thoughts turned to Morgan. Unlike the other men he'd made the mistake of counting on in his life, Morgan had protected him. He'd given him so much, and had asked for absolutely nothing in return; he'd made no grandiose promises, and he hadn't needed to. Even if his growing attraction to the handsome federal agent was useless, he felt grateful to have been a part of his life, even if just for a little while.

And, somehow, Spencer knew Morgan would be there for him if he really needed him.

He wouldn't trade that for any hope of paradise, in heaven or on earth.

He switched on the radio and smiled as Bob Dylan's nasal tone filled the car. He and his mother began to sing along to "Subterranean Homesick Blues," laughing as they tripped over the lightening fast lyrics they both knew by heart.

The man could definitely turn a phrase, Spencer thought.

He knew he'd play Dylan's songs for Sophie; he wondered if, someday, she'd remember all the words.

* * *

><p>*The Gates of Eden, by Bob Dylan<p>

Copyright © 1965 by Warner Bros. Inc.; renewed 1993 by Special Rider Music


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